


In Too Deep

by Fernon



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assassins & Hitmen, Crack, Fluff, Gangs, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Mobsters, Prompt Fic, Sex, Sexual Tension, Sickfic, Smut, Violence, Weapons, kind of, seonghwa gets a fever and messes a lot of stuff up, some violence but nothing detailed?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23869180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fernon/pseuds/Fernon
Summary: Seonghwa decides that, despite having a high fever, he's going to complete his mission.It doesn't go well.
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 7
Kudos: 88





	1. Don't Work When You're Sick

**Author's Note:**

> THIS FIC... It's been in the drafts WAY too long, and I've been working on getting it done for the past few days. It's based off a prompt, something along the lines of "there's a feverish assassin in my lap, RIP your mission," and I took it and ran with it. It ended up getting way longer than I was expecting it to, hence my splitting it into two parts. I haven't written much Ateez lately, so I figured I'd get this one out there. Enjoy!

Seonghwa never got sick. Ever. So when he woke up dizzy and shivering (even though his skin was burning hot) and he couldn’t stop coughing, he decided to ignore it. He had a mission today, and missions couldn’t be gotten out of. At least not without getting in trouble. Or getting demoted, or something. Seonghwa wasn’t really sure what happened when you cancelled on the day of a mission, but anyone who did was never seen again. 

So Seonghwa stumbles out of bed a whole five minutes before he needs to leave to be at headquarters, and proceeds to hack up a lung on his way out the front door, wrapping himself in three jackets and a scarf. He drives to the looming building in the business district of town, parks his sleek black car in the underground private parking garage, and makes his way inside. At face value, the building looks like any ordinary business building, with high security, and a nice lobby upon entering, and a few offices upstairs. But beyond the face value, each of the 18 floors is a state of the art training center, and 28 rooms throughout those floors are tech rooms. There’s a dining hall in the basement, and small dorm-like apartments on the top most floors for the newest trainees. Attached to all the bathrooms there are locker rooms, and a large conference room on the third floor, for debriefings. 

Seonghwa hurries to the locker room where his uniform is waiting for him in it’s little locker cubby. Quickly, he changes into the tight, thin, thermal black bodysuit and tight black pants, and loops his belt for gear on. He stuffs his feet into his combat boots, (with all three pairs of socks, even leaving on the purple fuzzy socks) and then sits on the bench and shivers, looking at his discarded layers of ‘mundane’ clothing, wanting to slip back into them. 

The locker room door flies open and one of the other men at the agency walks in, his pants dirty and torn in a few places. Seonghwa jumps at the disturbance, and then shoves his clothes into his locker and puts in the pin code, relocking it, and shuffles upstairs for his debriefing. He half falls through the doors, and plops in a chair, seeing as no one is there yet, and hugs his knees to his chest, shivering. 

Jongho, his partner, and a tech in training, is the first one to pop through the doors, bouncing excitedly. “Seonghwa! It’s my first mission with you today, aren’t you excited?! Seonghwa?” Jongho sits across from him and his brows are furrowed. “Are you okay?”

Seonghwa opens his mouth to talk, but promptly after breathing in, he begins coughing, a gross, rattly sound that’s wet and full of phlegm. “Yep. Can’t wait!” Seonghwa tries to be chipper, only to sniffle miserably.

“You look awful… Why don’t you step down from the mission?” Jongho reaches over and feels his forehead. “You’re burning up!”

“I can’t, I’ll lose my job.” Seonghwa wipes at his nose, and realizes he doesn’t have his gloves. They must still be at the top of his locker. “Shit…” Seonghwa groans and pushes himself up out of the chair. 

“No! I’ll go get them. I know your code.” Jongho says, and hurries off. Seonghwa stays huddled in his chair instead, and then the head of the company, Kim Hongjoong, walks in. He’s a short man, and he’s younger than Seonghwa is, but he was passed his opportunity to head the company when his father resigned, with some heart problem. The city government approved the change, and here Hongjoong is, setting up the debrief, and handing Seonghwa a profile folder. 

“Mr. Park. Where’s your tech?” Hongjoong asks. 

“I told you not to call me Mr. Park, Joong. We’re best friends, you doofus. We grew up running around this building.”

“I know but I’m trying to keep things professional.” Hongjoong whines. “You don’t look so hot, by the way.”

“I’ll be fine. Just didn’t sleep enough last night,” Seonghwa lies as he begins coughing up a lung again.

“You sure about that?” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

The two of them jump a mile when Hongjoong’s father walks in. Hongjoong wasn’t technically in his training phase of taking over as head anymore, but his father refused to let go, so he was often around the office, making sure things were in order. “Mr. Park. Where is your tech?” Hongjoong rolls his eyes at his father, and Seonghwa hides a smirk at the repeated question. 

“He should be here any minute, sir. I forgot my gloves and he offered to go fetch them for me.” Seonghwa bows his head politely, and Hongjoong’s father nods. 

“Well I’m sure Hongjoong here has debriefed you on your target. This is one of the biggest orders from the city right now, since he poses a huge threat to the city and it’s economy. He’s behind perhaps the biggest crime and drug ring in the city and he turns out some of the worst criminals, taking him out would be-”

“Dad, please. We’re not taking him out. We’re baiting him, sending him a warning.” Hongjoong rolls his eyes, and steps in front of the screen, just as Jongho bursts back into the room. “Ah, Jongho. You’re here.”

“Sorry I’m late sir!” Jongho bows deeply. Seonghwa accepts the gloves from him, and Hongjoong waits for him to sit. Hongjoong’s father stands off in the back of the room, silently watching. The blinds in the room drop down, and Hongjoong clears his throat.

“Target: Kang Yeosang, son of the biggest, most infamous gangster in the city, Kang ‘The Ace’ Yeongjun.” Hongjoong announces. A picture of a boy pops up on the screen, young, and styled nicely, as he walks across the street. His schoolbook photo is beside it, and he’s smiling a warm smile, with little fang-like incisors that remind him of a cat’s teeth. His eyes are bright and sparkling, and his cheeks are squishy. A tiny pink birthmark graces the top of his cheek, right by his eye. Seonghwa almost coos. He’s adorable. His heart does a little pitter patter, but he just shakes his head, blaming it on his feverish state. 

“Age 20, attends a private college academy, studying law. His father is paying for his private education with stolen money no doubt, or perhaps money from dealing drugs. Or selling high-tech weapons on the black market. He’s a swindler of banks, businesses, and the stock market. And there isn’t a cookie jar in the city his hand isn’t in. That’s why we need his son.”

“Yeosang’s, or Yeongjun’s?” Seonghwa laughs, but he knows the joke wasn’t funny. Where the fuck did his filter go? What the fuck was happening to him? Hongjoong blinks in shock, seeing that this was clearly uncharacteristic of Seonghwa. 

“Agent Park, keep the jokes out of this.” Hongjoong’s father warns from behind him. 

“Right, sorry sir.” Seonghwa says softly. Hongjoong clears his throat and continues. 

“His son needs to be killed. We are using our current knowledge of his whereabouts and his secret dealings to black mail him, but it’s not proving effective enough. We’re hoping that killing his own son will scare him into bending. Or perhaps make him paranoid enough for us to slip under his defenses and corner him, and finally nab him.” Hongjoong explains. “This is the address of his house, and here are your available weapons. Preferably use something clean.” Hongjoong states. 

“He’s a gangster, he’s executed hundreds of people in dirty ways. Make it gory, let’s really put the fear of god in him.” Hongjoong’s father laughs. Seonghwa was never a huge fan of Mr. Kim, he had a rather dark sense of humor, and it was hard to tell whether he was really being serious or joking. Seonghwa lets out a nervous chuckle and stands shakily as Hongjoong opens his case of fresh gear. Several knives and guns glint in the light of the lit up screen, as well as an array of poisons and a strangling cord. Seonghwa begins strapping them to his belts, his hands fumbling as he does so. Jongho hands him his earpiece, and the contact camera lense to put in his eye. Seonghwa pops it in, as usual, but his eye waters, and his vision blurs for a few moments. 

“We have connection. I’ll disarm any security systems when we hit that issue. Good luck, Seonghwa.” Jongho pats his shoulder, and Hongjoong sends him off in an anonymous black company cab. The car drives far out into the suburbs, at least a two hour drive across the city. Seonghwa isn’t sure when he falls asleep, but Jongho’s shouting in his earpiece startles him out of sleep. The world is hazy for him, and he stumbles out of the company’s cab, shuffling to the giant iron gates around the estate. 

“Seonghwa, there are cameras, stay the fuck back by the bushes, you idiot!” Jongho hisses, and Seonghwa ducks behind them, whining quietly. His head is pounding, and he can’t seem to stop seeing double. Seonghwa rips a glove off and sets a hand on his face. His skin is on fire. “Okay, Seonghwa. There’s an alarm system on the house, and a page system at the gates. You should be able to jump the fence on the north side of the house, there’s a small break in the cameras and they’re both facing away from a section of the fence. There’s cameras around the outside of the house, too, but they’re mostly directed at entrances. You have your mask?” Seonghwa groans in response and tugs it on, covering his mouth and nose with it.

“Can’t I just walk through the front door? I’m gonna have to shoot him in the head anyways!”

“You’ll set the security system off and it will alert… well, probably not the authorities, since we’re dealing with a criminal here, but probably a large group of angry, bad people.” Jongho scolds. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Is that an ostrich?” Seonghwa squints.

“That’s part of the gate, you fucking dumbass. Now go, lets get this over with.” Seonghwa rolls off the ground and stumbles towards the north side of the house.

“Seonghwa, you’re headed south. That’s east. What is wrong with you?!”

“M’skin… feels like fireeee!” Seonghwa begins giggling. 

“Fuck, I knew you shouldn’t have gone on this mission! You’re hallucinating, Seonghwa. Let me pull up your body reading from your suit tracker…”

“My suit has a tracker?! Whoaaaa!” Seonghwa starts clawing at his shirt. “Where?!”

“Your body temperature is at 104, holy hell, Seonghwa!”

“Oh yeahhhh, I’m hotttt!” Seonghwa wiggles his hips and giggles more. “Jongho I want to sleeeeeep!”

“Seonghwa, don’t- don’t do anything, I’m contacting Hongjoong, you need to be pulled from the mission.”

“The mission! Oh yeah I gotta go fuck this guy’s shit up!” Seonghwa giggles and staggers towards the gates, and starts feebly trying to climb it. 

“Seonghwa stop!” 

But Seonghwa’s foot catches and he pushes himself up, dragging himself over the fence and falling to the ground with an ‘oof.’ He stumbles to his feet, and makes his way to the front door, knocking angrily. 

“Seonghwa no!”

“Hack it, Jongho! S’your job!” Seonghwa slumps against the doors. Alarms start ringing, and there’s a beeping from behind the door, and it swings open, making Seonghwa fall backwards through the doorway, laying on the ground. 

“What the…?”

It’s him, it’s the target. 

“You must be Yeosangie!” Seonghwa giggles from the floor. “I’m supposed to kill you, but you’re cute so I don’t wanna.”

The boy looking down at him blanches for a moment, and then begins laughing. “ _ You’re _ an assassin? How drunk are you dude?”

“M’not drunk!” Seonghwa pouts. He grabs a knife from his belt and aims at one of the three Yeosang’s he’s currently seeing, and it ricochets off the wall and plunks to the ground. “Oh nooo! I missed.” 

Jongho’s voice hisses in his ear to shut up and stop telling Yeosang everything. 

Yeosang shuts the alarm off and pins a code in, presumably to call off whoever would come when the alarm goes off, and then kneels beside him, gently lifting Seonghwa’s head so it’s sitting in his lap. He lays a hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up. You shouldn’t be on a… mission.”

“I wanna sleep.” Seonghwa pouts and snuggles up to Yeosang. It must be then that Yeosang notices his earpiece, because he gently tugs it out of Seonghwa’s ear. The last thing that Seonghwa hears is Yeosang speaking. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I have a feverish assassin in my lap at the moment, your goal won’t be achieved until a later point in time when he’s feeling better.”

Seonghwa wakes up to someone gently shaking him, and everything is hazy, and he’s shivering, despite having six blankets on him, and being tucked securely under the blankets. The sheets are a soft silken texture, and the mattress is plushy and comfortable. Seonghwa just wants to go back to sleep, but instead he breathes in to yawn and begins coughing again.

“You need to drink some water, or you won’t get any better.” 

Seonghwa looks up to see Yeosang, his target, sitting beside him and offering him a glass of water. Seonghwa sits up enough to take it from him. He takes a sip, and his body shouts at him that he’s thirsty, and he downs the glass in seconds. 

“I brought you some chicken noodle soup. Homemade. You need the protein.” Yeosang grabs a bowl off the bedside table, and offers it to Seonghwa, who shakes his head and scoots back down under the covers. Yeosang sighs. “Please, just a couple bites.” Seonghwa sighs in response and sits up, reaching for the top most blanket and draping it over his shoulders. Some godforsaken part of him opens his mouth, and Yeosang chuckles, and scoops out a spoonful, and blows on it to cool it off, before offering the spoon to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa leans forward enough to take the spoon in his mouth and eat a bite of soup. The broth is rich in flavor, and goes down easy, and he munches on some chicken and carrots, and hums in approval. He makes it through the bowl of soup, and Yeosang tells him to drink one more glass of water and to take some fever reducer before he goes back to sleep. Seonghwa, reflecting back upon the situation, realizes that he perhaps shouldn’t be taking medication from a stranger, let alone a stranger who’s the son of a gang leader and to whom he confessed that he’s supposed to kill. 

But Seonghwa is too feverish to care, he accepts the cool glass of water, and takes down two of the pills, and then snuggles back under the blankets and lets Yeosang tuck him in. He feels a gentle hand run through his hair a few times, and then he hears the door shut and Seonghwa is out again.

He’s woken another three times by Yeosang, encouraging him to eat and drink, and four times by his own body, when he staggers to the bathroom in the dead of the night, which is luckily visible from where he lay in the bed. The next time he wakes of his own accord, his head less foggy and his body in less sickly agony. Now everything just ached. He sits up and stretches, and grimaces. He needs a shower.

“How long have I been out for…?” Seonghwa murmurs, just as the door to the room opens, and Yeosang is there, in a suit, with a backpack on his back. 

“Oh! You’re awake! Good, I was beginning to worry. You slept through all the times I brought a cold compress in and rested it on your forehead.”

Seonghwa stares at him, in that suit, looking adorable and small. “What’s with the suit?”

Yeosang looks down at himself. “Oh, I uh. My law class requires us to wear suits, since we sit in on court cases and learn how trials work, and stuff. Sorry. I just heated you up some soup, since I’ve been gone all day at class…” Yeosang’s cheeks flush a bright pink color. 

Seonghwa’s heart does another little pitter patter thing, and this time he definitely can’t blame it on the fever. “How long have I been here…?”

“Almost four days.”

“What- and- and nobody from the agency was sent?!” Seonghwa panics a bit. “Where’s my earpiece? And my gear?” Seonghwa stands, but before he’s even taken one step, dizziness is hitting him, and nausea strikes him. He sinks back down onto the bed.

“You need to rest more, you’re not in full health, and you haven’t eaten much, not enough to combat your sickness without taking some damage. I took your gear off of you at the front door when you passed out. Don’t worry, they’re in the mudroom cupboard. I- look, I think I’m owed an explanation. Before you- you run off, or kill me, or whatever you’re supposed to do as an assassin. After all, I took you in, nursed you back to almost perfect health, and didn’t call the authorities.”

Seonghwa blinks. Yeosang has a good point. Seonghwa should at least tell him his name and why he’s here. Even though it’s 200 percent against protocol. Seonghwa sighs. “My name is Park Seonghwa. I’m supposed to kill you because… because the group I work under, believes it would be beneficial to find a way to get at your father. They believe that if I kill you, it will send a message to your father, a warning, or something, or it will at least give my group the upper hand.”

Yeosang blinks, and then his face grows a bit angry. “My father is a coward, and a thief. I’ll just turn myself over to your custody, to see him brought to justice. Though I’m not sure what good that will do you. He couldn’t give a rat’s ass about me.” Yeosang laughs bitterly. “He pays for my education, and this house, but he wants me gone from his life. I’m a reminder of a sad past he once lived, one where he had a wife and two sons, before he started rubbing elbows with the worst of people.”

It’s Seonghwa’s turn to look astonished. “Two sons? What about the other one?”

“My brother is just as bad as my father. He’s older, so naturally my father wants him to… inherit the business. He won’t even talk to me about the business. He simply calls me weak, and a fool. He used to get into fights with me. The deal is, he’ll keep me under his roof as his punching bag until I graduate, and he fully intends to kick me out onto the streets the night I do.”

“Yeosang…” Seonghwa says softly.

“It’s why I wanted to be a lawyer. I want to prosecute him, I want to see him dragged in, and put behind bars once and for all. Not just because of what he did to me, but what he did to all those other poor people whose lives he ruined with drugs or gambling or violence.”

Seonghwa stares at him in shock, silence falling over them. 

“I- I didn’t know that you weren’t involved.” Shit, Seonghwa is in  _ way _ too deep for this. Personal connections weren’t supposed to be made, even in cases where he actually had to pretend to slide into someone’s life. Even when profiles were in great detail. No connections were to be made. In this case, he wasn’t even supposed to  _ speak _ to his target, but here he is, in the young man’s bed, still slightly feverish, after the boy nursed him back from a potentially deadly fever, and poured his lifelong hatred for his criminal of a father out to Seonghwa. 

“I never wanted to be involved. Once I was old enough to understand what he was dealing with and the atrocities he was committing… I wanted him out of my life. I was 11 before it really hit me. After my brother started to spend more time with my father, and I was left home alone. My brother would come back and hurt me, just like my father did. He used to be my best friend, and now he thinks I’m lower than life scum on his shoe, someone he can push around. Someone he sees as weak. All because I don’t want to be a part of their awful gang life. 

“How did you convince your father to pay for your college then?”

“I told him it was the only way to get rid of me. Send me to college, so I can learn and then get a job and leave. He was more than pleased to sign the check.”

“And despite your hatred for him, you’re using his dirty money to pay for your education?”

“It’s backwards, but I’m hoping to help the victims of his crimes with my degree. And I want to do it without them paying me, I think it might pay itself back in the end.”

Seonghwa is silent for a while, thinking about how fucked this mission is. “So… you think your father won’t care if he came home to your brains splattered across his office?”

“Well seeing as he gave me this house near my university to study at, he doesn’t have an office here. You’d have to take me to his office and blow my brains out there.” Yeosang’s tone is icy. “Even if you did, I know he wouldn’t care. He wants me gone, I’m one less nail in his stolen shoes.”

“Yeosang that’s… shit that fucks a lot of things up. I need my earpiece. And my eye lense.”

“I wasn’t sure what to do with the lense. You plucked it out and shoved it in my hand at some point when I got you into bed. You were very out of it.”

“What did you do with it?”

“I put it in a contact case with solution.”

“It’ll work.” Seonghwa says, slipping from bed to pad to the bathroom. Yeosang hurries to get him his gear. Seonghwa finds the case with one lense, the little micro lense camera that connected his sights to headquarters. He pops it back in and blinks a few times and feels it come on. No sound, not yet, without an earpiece. 

Yeosang taps gently on the wall beside the bathroom making seonghwa turn. He’s got it, the tiny little ear piece that sits like an earring on his ear. Seonghwa hits the on switch and tucks it in his ear and is met with  _ shouting _ .

“-you LITTLE SHIT YOU, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN WHY ARE YOU ASSOCIATING WITH THE TARGET, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON I’VE BEEN WORRIED SICK!”

“Jongho! Calm down, please, I need to explain.”

“Well I hope you have a good explanation, because Hongjoong is waiting for it. And so is his father.” Jongho snaps.

“I do, don’t worry. First of all, I about died from whatever fever I had. I’m still not right.”

“I know, your body suit still reads you at 100.6. Why the fuck did you go on the mission, Seonghwa?”

“I thought it would pass! I’m sorry.”

“Well they’re sending the cleanup crew if you’re not back by tomorrow.”

“Shit, no. Okay, is Hongjoong around?”

“I’m here,” Hongjoong pipes up. 

“Is your father?” Seonghwa asks.

“No.”

“Good, cause I need to tell you that the plan won’t work.”

“The fuck do you mean it won’t work, Seonghwa? You can still end his life and get the fuck out of there.”

“No, I can’t, because my DNA is all over this place now. Not to mention that Yeosang’s father doesn’t give a shit about him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Yeongjun has been breeding Yeosang’s older brother for the throne in secret. Nobody knows the kid exists outside of the family. Yeongjun is sending his unwanted kid to school to get him out of his fucking hair. Killing this kid won’t do any good.”

“You know you’re only a year older than me, right?” Yeosang quirks an eyebrow.

“How do you know how old I am?” Seonghwa whirls to face him, concern written all over his face. 

“Your blackout fevered flirting. I doubt you remember, because you didn’t make much sense but you kept calling me cute.”

Seonghwa has no recollection of this- or- well, maybe he does. There it is, a few tiny flashes of him making kissy faces at Yeosang when he showed up with a bowl of soup, and calling him baby, and asking him about himself. 

“Jesus, I’m in way too deep for this.” Seonghwa sighs. 

“Come on, dude, just take the kid out anyways. He knows too much.” Hongjoong sighs.

“No, he knows too much and  _ that’s _ why we can use him.”

“What?” Yeosang asks, and Seonghwa sighs, caught in a double conversation.

“Just. Let me bring him back to HQ and we can figure it out.”

“Uh, I have  _ classes _ , Seonghwa, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“He knows your  _ name,  _ Park?!” Hongjoong shouts.

“Jesus, just- Yeosang when do your classes get out?”

“2:30 is the end of my last class.”

“Get out of there while the kid is in class,” Jongho whispers.

“No, I- send a car at 3, Hongjoong.”

“Seonghwa, you’re not bringing your target to the compound.”

“Shut up, Hongjoong, I have a plan. And I need another nap. Send the car or send the clean up crew and take both of us out. I don’t think you can risk your best agent on this one, Hongjoong.”

“I don’t know how you’re my best agent anymore, with a fuck up this monumental.”

“Okay, then spare your best friend.” Seonghwa tries. Hongjoong is silent then.

“Fine. Once the target is gone we will discuss the plan.” Hongjoong sighs. Now get him out of there. 

“Alright, Yeosang, get to class. I’ll see you after.” 

Yeosang stares at him for a minute and then nods. “Okay. I’m trusting you.”

Seonghwa lies back down on the bed when he hears the front door close. 

“So what’s your plan, genius?” Jongho asks. 

“Watch your mouth, rookie.” Seonghwa smirks.

Yeosang stares at them. “You think I can get under my dad’s skin enough to get information out of him? You really think that I can get closer to my dad?”

“It’s worth a shot. It’s the best shot we have at taking him out and into prison. And all his associates. And you’ll have a chance at using that law degree to keep him  _ in  _ prison.” Seonghwa says, now out of his body suit and in sweats, finally showered and back at headquarters, talking the plan through with he and Hongjoong. Yeosang was blindfolded on the drive to the complex, and it took a hell of a lot of convincing Hongjoong that Yeosang could be trusted. 

“He could have killed me or had me killed in the four days that I was unconscious. He’s a good guy, Hongjoong, he helped a sick dude who showed up on his doorstep and threw a knife at him.”

“Fine. But no strings, Seonghwa. No attachment. He’s still a target. He’s a liability, and the enemy’s son.”

So now they sit, the plan laid out in front of Yeosang. 

“I haven’t even taken the bar exam, finals aren’t for another two weeks, Seonghwa. It would be on pause until then, so I can assure he stays in prison.”

“We can hold out for another three weeks. No job won’t be a problem, you’d be a lawyer for the city’s authorities and anyone on their behalf, meaning any citizens whose lives your father destroyed,” Hongjoong says. 

“I…” Yeosang looks down at the table before him, unable to find words. 

Seonghwa sets a hand on his shoulder. “I promise you we’ll take your father out. We just need you for intel. Where he hides, what he does with his men, when he has shipments coming. Be our informant. Once we weaken his forces and worm our way in, we’ll be okay. You don’t have to do any of the dirty work, and this’ll help you get one step closer to getting justice against your father.”

Yeosang looks up at Seonghwa for a moment, searching his eyes. “I don’t have to kill anyone? I don’t have to hurt anyone?”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “No. Not intentionally, no.”

“Not.. intentionally?”

“You’ll need to be trained. Intel and self defense combat, at the very least.”

“He can’t train here, Seonghwa. He’s not an official team member, he can’t be put in a contract as a trainee. Besides, there’s no room left in the trainee dorms, and classes are full,” Hongjoong looks at Seonghwa.

“Then I’ll train him. And since the dorms are full, he’ll stay with me. So I can make sure he doesn’t run away, or run to his father. 

Hongjoong is quiet for a few moments, clearly unhappy with the whole business. “Fine. He stays with you. He’s your charge, you don’t let him out of your sight. We can make him up a contract as an outsider. One that states that if he betrays us or lets it slip to the enemy that we’re working with him, we can shoot him on sight.”

Yeosang pales. “I- I don’t- I don’t want to die.”

“Then none of this gets wind with your father, understand?” Hongjoong gives him a smile that’s neither comforting nor genuine. It’s rather scary, in fact. He claps Yeosang on the shoulder as he walks out to get the company lawyer to make up the contract. “Welcome to the team, kid. Even if it’s temporary.”

Yeosang is put in the guest room for the night, Seonghwa’s security posted outside the door and the window in his room armed with alarm. “I don’t not trust you, but if anything goes wrong with this, Hongjoong will have my ass, and not in a sexy way. More like a ‘mounted on his wall because I fucked up’ kind of way.” Seonghwa says as he parts ways with Yeosang. 

“I get it. Thank you.”

Seonghwa stops in his tracks and turns. “For what?”

“For not killing me. For finding a way to spare me. For helping me to take my father down.”

Seonghwa shrugs. “Part of the job.”

The next morning, Seonghwa is feeling 100 percent, no fever and just a little bit of a cough left, which he takes some medicine for while he cooks breakfast. He’s halfway through a cup of coffee when Yeosang’s bedroom door opens and he steps out, toweling his wet hair, in nothing but a pair of low hanging sweatpants. Seonghwa sputters on the sip of coffee he was drinking and sets his mug down, ogling the sight before him, before Yeosang takes the towel off his head. 

His skin is golden and blemished with scars, yet somehow still smooth and beautiful. He’s thin, but not in an unhealthy way, he’s still lithe with muscles, like a dancer or runner might have Seonghwa has to tear his eyes away from Yeosang, before it’s too much. He’s  _ hot _ , for fucks sake. Seonghwa thought he was a good looking guy but this… was different. 

“What’s for breakfast?” Yeosang asks, sitting at a barstool at the counter. 

“I’m making protein pancakes. There’s fruit in the fridge, and yogurts if you’d like. You don’t have any Saturday classes, right? I was thinking we could start your training today.”

Yeosang watches him cook for a minute or two. “No, I don’t have any classes. Are you feeling well enough for training?”

“Yep, fever is gone, just a little cough left, nothing that some cold medicine can’t take care of.” Seonghwa plates three pancakes and slides them to Yeosang. “Help yourself to whatever you want to top them with. Personally, I like strawberries and whipped cream. If you want coffee there’s some in the pot, the creamer is in the fridge.” 

Yeosang looks at his plate and then shuffles to the fridge and looks it’s contents over. Seonghwa plates his three pancakes and then places them at a barstool a few seats down from Yeosang. He grabs the whipped cream and strawberries and smothers his pancake in them, and then digs in. He glances at Yeosang’s plate to see he’s gone for a more traditional maple syrup approach, but he’s grabbed a banana out of the fruit bowl on the counter and is instead eating that. 

Seonghwa avoids looking at him eating that. 

“So… Are you going to need to know my class schedule?” Yeosang asks after a few minutes of silence. Seonghwa nods. 

“Preferably. That way I can plan your training around it.”

“I’m in a couple of study groups, and an art club, I don’t have to drop those, do I?”

“No, we’ll just pull a couple extra hours of work on the weekends. We’ll start stretching in an hour, and then I’ll start on your self defense training.” Seonghwa says, his plate now empty. He takes it and sets it in the dishwasher, and then heads to his room to sit and relax for an hour.

Yeosang’s training passes in a blur, six hours of the day gone in a flash, and by the end of it, Seonghwa is exhausted, having just recovered from an illness. He collapses on the couch in a heap, sweaty and sore.

“Seonghwa? Are you alright?” Yeosang leans over the couch and reaches out to tenderly touch his bicep.

“Yeah. This… was maybe a lot for me today,” Seonghwa says, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

“Here, let me get you some water… You should shower and get to bed,” Yeosang says, and Seonghwa hears him pad to the kitchen. He hears a couple of cupboards open before Yeosang figures out which one contains the glasses. He hears the tap turn on and Yeosang is coming back, glass in hand. Seonghwa thanks him, sitting up and accepting the glass. He gulps it down and leans back against the couch for a few minutes. Yeosang is standing awkwardly at the edge of the living room, and Seonghwa gestures for him to sit down. 

“What’s mine is yours, for the next couple weeks.” Seonghwa chuckles. “Feel free to watch whatever on the TV, if you need anything, let me know and we’ll get you what you need. Like anything from your house, I know we only packed enough for the weekend.” 

“Thank you… Yeah, I have a couple of things I should probably get tomorrow…” Yeosang says, thinking aloud. 

“Of course. We’ll head over and pick you up some things tomorrow. You’ll also start your tech and intel training. We’ll show you your father’s file and you’ll fill in any gaps we have, and we’ll show you how to use the earpieces and eye lenses and things like that. Okay?”

“Okay, sounds good.”

“Alright, living room is yours, I’m showering and going to bed. I’ll call security in now, so they’re here when I get out.” Seonghwa stands up with a slight groan, starting to really feel just how much he overdid it today, and shuffles to his bathroom off his bedroom. He makes sure to call security before he gets in the shower, and then starts up the water. Seonghwa takes a long, hot shower, letting his muscles relax under the heat, feeling all the tension leave his body, and he lets out something of an involuntary moan. When he collapses into bed, he hardly remembers shutting his eyes and he’s out like a light. 

The next day, he shows Yeosang how to use the earpiece, and explains how Jongho will be his operator through everything. He shows Yeosang how their body suits work, and what they do, and then they go to pick up a bigger bag for him, while Seonghwa looks around the house. Yeosang takes about an hour to gather his things, including three suits for his law classes, which he carries separately. 

They head back home and Seonghwa agrees they can turn in for the rest of the day, and Seonghwa plops on the couch and browses for a movie, settling on some rom com and nestling under a fluffy throw blanket. Yeosang unpacks his bag and steps out of his room, raising an eyebrow at Seonghwa. 

“Assassins watch romance movies? What a shock!” Yeosang giggles and Seonghwa shrugs. 

“We like what we like. We’re people too, not cold hearted monsters,” Seonghwa chuckles a little. 

“I- I didn’t mean to be mean… You just don’t strike me as a romance sort of a guy.”

“I am a man of many facets, Yeosang. I happen to be  _ very  _ romantic towards my lovers.” A smirk grows on Seonghwa’s lips that has Yeosang’s eyes widening and his mouth and brain backpedaling. 

“No, I- I didn’t mean like that either, I- I didn’t-”

Seonghwa laughs. “It’s alright, don’t sweat it. Wanna watch? I’ll start it over.”

Yeosang looks at the TV for a moment and then sits on the other end of the couch.

“You want some blanket?” Seonghwa holds an edge of the blanket up and Yeosang shrugs, sliding closer to tuck his legs under the blanket. Seonghwa starts the movie over and they sit in peace, watching the movie through til the end. 

Seonghwa offers to play another movie, and Yeosang agrees. “I kinda want a snack though,” Yeosang states. So they get up and make snacks, Seonghwa finding what he has in the cabinets, finding Yeosang has a sweet tooth just like himself, so he opens up his little cupboard that has a stash of candies and brings them over to the couch, as well as making a bag of popcorn. He grabs them each a fancy root beer out of the fridge, the kinds that come in glass bottles, and hands one to Yeosang. They tuck themselves under the blanket again, and Seonghwa lets Yeosang pick the movie this time. 

Yeosang chooses some blockbuster action movie that came out a year or two back, and the two of them munch away, enthralled by the movie and the explosions, though Seonghwa finds it hits a bit close to some of his jobs in some scenes, making it a bit distasteful for him. Eventually the movie ends, and Seonghwa asks if Yeosang is up for another movie. It’s 11 at night, but Yeosang nods, so Seonghwa picks out a comedy he’s seen a few times, and they hunker down to watch this one. They’re not even halfway through when Seonghwa realizes the weight on his shoulder, and the heat against his side, radiating from Yeosang. 

He glances over at the younger to find him snoring softly, cheeks rosy and warm, hair tousled and peaceful, his lashes resting gently on his cheeks. He’s adorable, and something in Seonghwa’s chest swells, and his stomach flips for a moment. He’s hardly known this man a week and he’s already rubbing off on Seonghwa. Seonghwa stares for perhaps longer than is acceptable, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes from the precious man beside him, tiny little snores bubbling from his throat and past his slightly parted lips. He looks wonderfully soft, and Seonghwa wants to hold him and kiss his round cheeks, and run his fingers through his hair. 

_ Shit _ , he’s so  _ damn cute. _

Seonghwa lets the movie finish, and then debates how he should move Yeosang. He’s not sure he should risk waking the other up, perhaps jostled by Seonghwa moving him off the couch, or if he should do just that, wake the younger up and let him get ready for bed. He ends up opting for that, unsure of when Yeosang has classes tomorrow, and unsure if he has a strict bedtime routine. 

“Yeosang,” Seonghwa says softly, gently pushing the other’s shoulder. “Yeosang, wake up.”

Yeosang stirs, his head lolling upright and his eyes fluttering open. “Hmm?”

“You fell asleep, you should get to bed,” Seonghwa says, reaching out to smooth some of his hair down. That just makes Yeosang groan and rub at his eyes, a big yawn tearing it’s way past his lips. 

“Mmm… Did I sleep on you? M’sorry…” Yeosang mumbles, still rubbing at his eyes. 

“It’s okay. Do you need to be up at a certain time tomorrow?”

“Class at… 11? So like… maybe 9…”

“Alright, I’ll make sure you’re up by 9:30.” 

“Okay… g’night Seonghwa…” Yeosang stands and sways, eyes still not open, and he shuffles in the general direction of the hallway. Seonghwa can see a chair and probably a wall in his way, so he stands and follows Yeosang, setting a hand on his hip to guide him better. He gets him down the hall and into his room, and watches with wide eyes as Yeosang strips before Seonghwa can even leave the room, discarding his shirt and jeans, and then crawls into bed in nothing but his underwear. 

“Uh, goodnight Yeosang,” Seonghwa says, turning the light off and closing the door. The guards are posted outside of it, two agents that Seonghwa recognizes. 

“Yunho, Mingi.” Seonghwa nods. They had both been trainees with Seonghwa, only a year or so younger than he and Hongjoong, and he’d not seen them since training. They both greet him politely, and then chat between one another as Seonghwa turns the lights in the other end of the house off, and then retreats down the hallway. Seonghwa brushes his teeth and tosses his clothes aside to climb into bed with a sigh. 

He wakes up at 9 the next morning and slips into a pair of sweatpants, padding down the hall to knock on Yeosang’s door. He pokes his head in and calls for Yeosang. “Yeosang? It’s 9, time to get up.” Seonghwa calls. Yeosang stirs and pokes his head out from under the covers, his hair sticking up in every direction as he blinks in the early morning sunlight. 

“Mmm… morning.” Yeosang yawns.

“Morning. I’m starting breakfast, what time do your classes end?”

“Hmm… Four I think.” Yeosang stretches. 

“Alright. We’ll continue your training after that. More self defense.” 

“Sounds good…” Yeosang says, sitting up. Seonghwa shuts the door to leave him time to get ready. He looks at Yunho and Mingi and offers them breakfast, and they look to one another and agree to a meal. 

Seonghwa makes omelettes for them all, asking what both the guards would like in theirs, cutting up vegetables and some meat and cheese to put in, and makes toast to go with them. He makes coffee and fruit smoothies for everyone, and he’s almost done before Yeosang slips out of his room, yet again shirtless and toweling his hair off. Seonghwa does his best not to stare, but his eyes drink in the golden tan of his skin, and every curve and edge to his body, the way his muscles shift under his skin. Seonghwa wants to trace his finger tips along every edge of it, but instead he tears his eyes away. 

“Good, you’re up. What do you want in your omelette?” Seonghwa asks. 

“Hmm… peppers, cheese, and bacon.” Yeosang takes a seat beside Yunho. “You’re a different guard than the first two nights.”

“Name’s Yunho, he’s Mingi. Shift rotation.” Yunho shrugs. Yeosang nods. 

When Yeosang arrives back from class, Seonghwa gives him time to change while he makes water bottles for the two of them, and then leads him back down to the basement with the workout equipment. They stand on the mat and Seonghwa leads the two of them in stretches, making sure every muscle is loose, before Seonghwa starts showing him the less combative side of self defense, which is what they worked on previously. 

“Today I’m going to show you how to get out of various holds. I know the fighting part of self defense seems important, but this is equally as important. I’m going to show you how to get out of someone’s grip when they grab you, so you have an opportunity to get away. This is probably the most important self defense teaching that we learn in training, because if you’re caught by the enemy, you’re dead. Don’t get caught, you live to see another day.” Seonghwa says, and Yeosang nods in understanding. “So, say you just ran out of an alleyway, or just burst through a doorway. First things first, there’s almost always going to be someone waiting there for you, to catch you. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. So always look both ways and don’t sprint in with too much confidence. Go in with caution, because if you get a hook to the temple after coming through here, then you’re down. Besides that, someone could be waiting to grab you. So say you came out of the alley without caution, like an idiot. I’m going to grab your arm and twist it behind you, like this.”

“Well couldn’t I hit you the second you grab ahold of me?”

“You could, but you’re not a trained fighter, so your reflexes are slower than that. But that’s not what we’re working on right now anyways. Good first thought, though. Now, I’ve got your arm behind you, like this, and I reach for your other one and twist it back too. Obviously you’d be struggling…”

Seonghwa continues the lesson, ignoring the closeness as best as he can, focusing in on teaching Yeosang how to get out of someone’s grip, and showing the best grip to keep someone in, and counteracting their attempts to get out of the holds. It’s all going smoothly until Seonghwa has his wrists held together and Yeosang pressed to his chest, with Yeosang looking at him with his sole focus on Seonghwa’s words. His eyes catch Yeosang’s and it’s like everything stops, staring into the brown pools that show down into his soul, and shine with determination. 

Seonghwa stares deep into them, his words coming out of his mouth without him realizing what he’s even saying. His chest feels tight, being so close to Yeosang like this, pressed together from shoulder to hip. Yeosang feels small in his grip, but somehow so strong. He’s beautiful, every bit of him, as Seonghwa stares into his eyes and feels Yeosang going against his grip, fire of fight in his eyes, the desire to bring down his dad showing on his face. They’d practiced this position and move several times, and unfortunately in Seonghwa’s distraction, he forgets to play it off like stage fighting, so when Yeosang’s hands break up towards his jaw, they slam against his face without any attempt at avoidance, sending Seonghwa spinning, and he feels Yeosang’s foot hook behind his knee, making it buckle and sending him falling to the ground. 

Unfortunately in his state, he doesn’t let go of Yeosang’s hands, and ends up dragging him down to the ground with him. Yeosang lands on top of them, their legs tangled together and Seonghwa’s head spinning. Yeosang is looking down at him in shock, and his lips are parted and his heart is beating against Seonghwa’s chest, racing even, and Seonghwa blinks, snapping back to reality and attempting to squash down the heat pooling in his chest and face at their proximity. 

“-oh my god I actually hit you, are you okay?!” Yeosang is babbling, and Seonghwa then notices the throbbing in his jaw.

“Oh, ow, shit… Yeah that- you got me good,” Seonghwa chuckles, reaching up to rub at the tender spot. 

“I’m so sorry!” Yeosang sits up, hands on his mouth in embarrassment and genuine regret. Seonghwa’s new focus now, is the way that Yeosang is straddling him, ass on his crotch and his beautiful thighs on either side of Seonghwa’s hips. 

_ No, don’t you dare think about that, Park Seonghwa _ , he scolds himself mentally. But it’s too late, the image is flooding his head, images of Yeosang on top of him, a sheen of sweat covering his beautiful skin, the muscles of his body shifting under it as he bounces-

Seonghwa clears his throat and wiggles out from under Yeosang, perhaps making the oncoming issue all the worse, but he absolutely  _ cannot _ have a hard on while Yeosang is perched perfectly on his crotch, potentially- no, definitely- feeling the whole thing. Seonghwa clambers to his feet. “No, no, don’t apologize. You did exactly what you were supposed to, except for the… falling on top of me part. How about we call it quits for the night and have dinner?” Seonghwa holds a hand out for Yeosang, who looks up at him and accepts it, using it to stand. 

“That’d be good…” Yeosang sounds more timid now, like he has to dance around Seonghwa suddenly, and Seonghwa feels panic rising up in his system, worried if he felt it, because Seonghwa can feel he’s half hard now. 

“Yeah, I’m just gonna grab a shower before I start cooking, if that’s alright. I feel sweaty…” Seonghwa trails off. Yeosang nods. 

“No problem. I could actually- I can cook tonight, if you want. You’ve done all the cooking thus far, it’s only fair,” Yeosang suggests. Seonghwa shrugs. 

“If you want to, that’d be nice, but- don’t feel like you have to, I can cook, I won’t be long in the shower, if you don’t want to-”

“No, that’s okay, I don’t mind, really.” Yeosang smiles at him, and Seonghwa feels his worry clearing. 

“Perfect, alright… I’ll go… I’ll go shower now,” Seonghwa nods and heads up stairs, Yeosang trailing after him. He makes a beeline for his bedroom, shutting the door behind him, and then he shuts himself in his bathroom and starts up the shower, tugging his shirt over his head. His dick is still half hard now, and Seonghwa debates between giving in to desire or just taking a cold shower. 

What if thinking about Yeosang while he gets off makes something weird between them? What if Yeosang finds out? But would it be so bad? At the least, Seonghwa could brush any feelings under the carpet and insist that it was a one time. After all, Seonghwa doesn’t remember when the last time he had sex was, and he doesn’t get off all that often either, he doesn’t have the time for this sort of thing normally. Or anything to think about when he does it. Or rather, anybody. 

Would it be so bad? Just this once? If he touched himself, like Yeosang could? If he just… pictured Yeosang’s pretty lips wrapped around his cock, and…  _ shit _ , Seonghwa’s in too deep. He steps into the shower and braces himself against the wall with one hand, letting the scalding water hit his back, the other hand palming himself. It’s been so long since he let himself indulge in something like this, even if it’s just himself. Cold showers have been his friend for so long, and-

A moan slips past Seonghwa’s lips, and Seonghwa has to bite on his lip to strangle the next one that threatens to spill, thoughts of Yeosang’s perfect body under him running through his head. He strokes himself to the thought of Yeosang kissing him hungrily, like his life depends on it. He thinks about Yeosang choking on his dick, and loving every second of it. He thinks about his dick in Yeosang, how well he would take it, and the sounds he’d make, little whines, his cheeks flushed.

Seonghwa’s hips are snapping into his hand, chasing after a release he hasn’t granted himself in weeks, stuttering when he orgasms, head thrown back, biting down so hard on his lip to damper the moan bubbling up in his throat, and he’s pretty sure he tastes blood, as he comes.

His orgasm has him dizzy, head in a cloud of endorphins as he comes down from his release. He leans heavily against the shower wall, breathing heavily. The good feeling that comes from an orgasm washes away down the shower drain when he thinks about what he just did. He just got off to his target-turned-nurse-turned-temporary-roommate, who he’d have to live with in his charge for an indefinite amount of time, until Yeosang could get his father to trust him enough to give him his secrets, and they could take him out. 

Seonghwa stands there, hair dripping water in his face as the shame hits him. “Oh,  _ fuck _ , I’m in too deep. I’m in  _ way _ too deep.” Seonghwa whispers. 


	2. Mission Accomplished

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seonghwa dives deeper, despite being in too deep. 
> 
> Perhaps it goes well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while... this is finally finished! This is the first real action scene I've ever written, and I'm excited to finally have this fic finished, since it's been in the works since October of 2019. Another project done!

The next few weeks are a dance for Seonghwa, trying to avoid any intrusive thought about Yeosang as anything other than a charge. Before Seonghwa knows it, Yeosang is a sharp fighter and looking forward to taking his bar exam next week. And luckily, Seonghwa has managed to avoid all except two intrusive Yeosang thoughts. One of them was when Yeosang was giggling and Seonghwa had to fight his urge to hug him for the rest of the night. And the other was when he came home last night from HQ from giving a report on the current mission, to find Yeosang baking, with a streak of flower on his cheek and nose, his hair damp from his shower and curling, and in the fluffiest, coziest sweater he owned. Seonghwa had wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss him. 

Yeosang smiled brightly and told him he was making cupcakes, because he was craving something sweet, and offered him one once they were out of the oven. He was using the mixer to make homemade frosting, and even offered a spoonful of the frosting to Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa had accepted, even though his brain was screaming to run, because for fucks sake, Seonghwa couldn’t do this, he was whipped, he was too far gone for this to be okay. Yeosang still had yet to take his bar exam, and had only just begun his schmoozing up to his father, and here Seonghwa was, falling in love with his case. 

Seonghwa hid out in his room the next day, occupying his brain with some light reading and two episodes of his new show. It’s a Saturday, Yeosang has no classes, and for the most part has been out of his hair for the last few days, between study groups and his classes which were becoming review for their upcoming finals. Seonghwa is beginning to grow restless, cooped up in his room, so he changes into some workout clothes and peeks his head out of his bedroom door. There’s no sound coming from the rest of the house, except for the faint sounds of a show emitting from Yeosang’s room, so Seonghwa slips past with all his trained stealth and down to the workout room.

He gets out his excess energy until he’s sweating and disgusting, and his stomach is rumbling for something to eat. Seonghwa wipes the sweat away with a towel and chugs one of the waters from the fridge, and then heads back upstairs to shower, yet again having to tiptoe past Yeosang’s room. 

But one singular sound stops him dead in his tracks. 

Seonghwa’s house is by no means soundproof. It’s not even slightly so, since he can hear the rustling of Yeosang moving around, and the little whines he’s letting out, and-

Oh  _ fuck him _ , Seonghwa is fucked. Yeosang is-

There’s a moan, and an all too familiar sound of skin sliding over skin, and Seonghwa  _ knows _ what’s going on behind this door. It takes another moan to make Seonghwa’s cheeks burn with shame, all the way up to his ears, as his dick hardens in his pants. Seonghwa shakes his head, trying to clear his head and force himself away from the door. He takes a step forward before he hears it, making him freeze. 

“S-Seonghwa,” Yeosang’s muffled voice drifts through the door, and Seonghwa thinks he’s going to melt through the floorboards, knees turning to jelly under him and he stumbles, his pants feeling much too tight, and he runs, sprinting to the end of the hall and shutting the door behind him, pinning himself up against the back of it, chest heaving and eyes wide at the realization. 

Yeosang- Yeosang is fucking thinking about-  _ him, _ and- oh god, Seonghwa can’t handle that thought. Seonghwa stops. What if he- should he try- no, no, Seonghwa couldn’t do that. Seonghwa couldn’t interrupt that, maybe it’s just Yeosang’s quick thought to blow off steam, maybe it’s because he hasn’t seen much of anyone but Seonghwa, and Seonghwa is pretty attractive, so he supposes.

Seonghwa is a coward. Seonghwa assassinates people for a living, but he’s a coward, unable to go confront Yeosang. Seonghwa pushes his feelings further in their bottle and goes to the shower to jerk off and wash the shame away.

Yeosang aces his exams and passes the bar with flying colors, successfully earning his license. Seonghwa cooks him dinner the night it arrives in the mail, shortly after his graduation from law school, something fancy and wonderful, putting all his best culinary skills to use. Seonghwa is busy in the kitchen when Yeosang arrives back from seeing his friends, cheeks red from the sun and a smile on his face, brighter than the sun outside. Little freckles smatter his cheeks from being out on the beach, the sun darkening the little spots.

“Hey, Seonghwa! Whatcha cooking?” Yeosang leans over the breakfast bar a little, peering at the stove. His hair is tousled from the wind and curled from the sea salt, and he smells like sunblock and sand. He looks like a child of the sun, bright, beautiful and brilliant. He’s gorgeous, and Seonghwa feels his heart flutter, dancing in his chest.

“Celebration dinner,” Seonghwa smiles, pushing the big envelope towards him, the one that has his name on it, and the university logo in the corner.

“My license is here?!” Yeosang beams and grabs the package, tearing it open. “It’s beautiful!” He holds it out proudly. 

“Good job,” Seonghwa smiles tenderly at the young man before him, who is practically radiating happy energy. “Dinner is just about done, I don’t know if you want any drinks, I have a few bottles of champagne, some red wine and rosé on the rack, and possibly something a little stronger if you’d rather have that.”

“I’ve never had champagne. Or rosé. Red wine is… not my favorite.”

“Champagne is better for celebrations anyways. I’ll go get some, if you want to make yourself a plate.” Seonghwa gestures to the food on the counter, waiting to be served. Yeosang nods and grabs a plate from the cupboard, while Seonghwa goes to the wine rack and grabs the bottle of champagne he bought once a few years back just to have. He brings it out and pops it open, pouring them each a flute, and then makes himself a plate. They sit at the dining table, and Seonghwa toasts Yeosang.

“To success.” Seonghwa raises his glass and tips his head slightly, and Yeosang smiles.

“To success.” Yeosang agrees, and raises his flute as well, before they both take a drink. Dinner is wonderful, Yeosang telling Seonghwa about his beach day. Seonghwa could listen to him for hours, between his toothy smile and his fit of giggles while he tells a particularly funny tale, and the inflections of his voice and the way it meets his ears gently, like a lullaby. Seonghwa listens intently, holding each word in his mind and close to his heart. After dinner, the two of them clean up and get comfy on the couch to watch movies. By the end of the first movie, Seonghwa is on his fourth glass of champagne, his veins buzzing with the stuff. The world is just soft enough around the edges, and Seonghwa’s mind feels like it’s floating, the perfect amount to take the edge off and make him think less. Yeosang is on glass five, and pouring another into Seonghwa’s now empty glass. 

“I’ll pick the next movie?” Yeosang asks, setting the champagne bottle down. Seonghwa nods, and Yeosang makes grabby hands at the remote. Seonghwa hands it to him, and it’s about five minutes before Yeosang settles on a rom-com. Seonghwa continues to sip champagne, and after about half an hour, he remembers the dessert he got in the fridge. 

“You want dessert?” Seonghwa offers. Yeosang perks up at that.

“Dessert!” 

Seonghwa chuckles. Yeosang’s cheeks and nose are rosy from the alcohol, and his grin is soft and goofy. He’s the cutest person Seonghwa has ever seen. “Yeah, I picked up a fancy cake at the store, lemme go cut off a couple slices.” Seonghwa ruffles Yeosang’s hair with a giggle, and gets up to grab them dessert. 

After dessert, they resume their cuddly positions on the couch, and by the time the movie ends, 10 pm has rolled around. Yeosang begs for another movie, so Seonghwa caves without any real begging. They’re only fifteen minutes into the next movie that Yeosang picked, and Yeosang is shifting to climb into Seonghwa’s lap, making Seonghwa raise an eyebrow. 

“Yeosang, what-” 

And then Yeosang’s lips are pressing against his own, urgent and hot.  _ Fuck _ , the way that Seonghwa melts in an instant, no hesitation and no fear in his mind. Champagne really is a mind meld. Seonghwa is gone, giving into the kiss like he’s shared a million of them with this person. Yeosang kisses like he’s starved for touch, like Seonghwa is the only person in the world, like it will fill him and make him less hungry. Yeosang is straddling his hips now, arms trailing along his shoulders and back, feather light, but they feel heavy, pressing into Seonghwa’s heart.

Yeosang’s tongue slides across Seonghwa’s lower lip, urging him to open his mouth, changing the kiss into something headier, something that should go somewhere more. Their tongues slot together, licking into one another, their teeth nearly knocking together, with the way that Seonghwa chases after the wet heat of Yeosang’s mouth. Yeosang’s hands slide down Seonghwa’s chest, sliding up under his shirt, feeling the taught muscles there, tracing over scars with his fingertips. Yeosang tips his head slightly, urging Seonghwa to deepen the kiss.

Seonghwa pays no attention to anything in this moment, his blurry mind focusing only on Yeosang, and his hands, and his tongue lapping into Seonghwa’s mouth desperately. Seonghwa’s own hands are gripping onto Yeosang’s hips, thumbs rubbing little circles into his hip bones, while Yeosang presses against him. Seonghwa feels the younger’s hands move out from under his shirt, grabbing onto his shoulders to press them even closer. Seonghwa’s neck is craning upward now, from the way Yeosang arches his back to press them into one another, his want creeping through the fabric of their clothes. Yeosang pulls away to huff a breath of air desperately, and Seonghwa’s hands roam upwards on Yeosang’s body, traveling up his spine and to the back of his neck, pulling him back in for another kiss. 

They make out for a few more minutes, hands roaming curiously, though without caution. They’re dizzy with champagne and lust, uncaring of consequences, until Yeosang cups a hand around Seonghwa’s clothed dick, eliciting a gasp from the older. With that gasp, a patch of fog seems to leave his clouded mind, and he’s pulling away hesitantly, wanting so much more, but knowing he shouldn’t. 

This is his charge, part of a mission, someone he won’t be permitted to see after this. Yeosang shouldn’t mean this much, Yeosang also shouldn’t be in his lap, kissing along his jaw, rolling his hips a little against Seonghwa, clearing Seonghwa’s mind even further. 

The more Seonghwa breathes, the more he can feel his mind clearing the buzz of the champagne in his veins, but no longer in his head. He has to swallow to gather his thoughts and words. “Yeosang,” Seonghwa gently calls, hoping it gets through the fog of desire in Yeosang’s mind. 

Yeosang continues to nip at the skin along Seonghwa’s collarbone, stretching the collar of his button down aside, searching for more skin. 

“Y-Yeosang, hey, wait.” Seonghwa’s hands come up to press lightly on Yeosang’s chest, in warning. Yeosang recognizes this warning, pulling away and sitting up a little. 

“What’s wrong, Seonghwa?” The words rumble out of Yeosang’s chest, something sexy and beckoning, and halfway to teasing. 

“We- champagne, Yeosang, we shouldn’t- do anything else.” Seonghwa tries to reason with the word  _ want _ chanting through his head and sticking in his veins. God, he’d love to have Yeosang every way from Tuesday, but not like this, not when they’re borderline drunk and Yeosang could just want to blow off steam. 

Yeosang pouts at him, batting those long lashes against his lightly freckled cheeks, looking like absolute sin. His hair is tangled and sticking up and cheeks flushed, and he looks desirable in the best possible way, and Seonghwa is pretty sure this is a goddamn difficult decision. 

“What, is the assassin afraid?”

“That you’ll regret this in the morning if we do it? Yes, Yeosang. This isn’t how we should do things. We- we should go sleep it off, okay?”

Yeosang’s frowning now, brows furrowing and eyes narrowing into a glare. “Are you fucking kidding me, Seonghwa? We’re adults.”

“Okay, and alcohol is still like- a fucking influence,” Seonghwa sighs. 

“God, just- you just had to say that you didn’t want me like that, Seonghwa, for fucks sake. Sorry, I just thought you were into me. Whatever. It’s cool. Thanks for dinner and dessert and- fucking champagne. Good night,” Yeosang’s last words are angry, spat out hot and burning, like ashes from a fire. He slides out of Seonghwa’s lap, leaving him stunned and on the couch. The door to Yeosang’s room shuts harshly, and Seonghwa is left sitting there blankly. 

After a couple minutes, Seonghwa has to sit up, the whole situation hitting him like a train, and he puts his head in his hands with a groan. “Fucking shit,” Seonghwa whispers. He fucked up. He completely fucked up. 

Another few minutes pass, and Seonghwa puts the plates in the dishwasher, paging the guards up from their quarters outside and flicking the lights in the kitchen off. He shuffles past the door of Yeosang’s room to the telltale sounds of someone jerking off, and has to quicken his pace to distance himself from everything he wants to do. 

He wants to apologize to Yeosang. 

He wants to tell Yeosang, in fact, scream from the rooftops to Yeosang, about how  _ very into him _ Seonghwa is, and how much he’d love to do a lot more than have a tipsy one night stand with him. 

He wants to hold Yeosang and tell him that he was being an ass, and explain his stupid, backwards logic for all of this. 

He definitely wants to go and help Yeosang with his little session, he wants to swallow him down his throat and-

He can’t. 

He can’t do any of those things, he can’t have any of these thoughts, because he fucked up. Because Yeosang is part of his mission, something that he could never have like that, someone who he could never be with, because Yeosang is just another part in a scheme for justice, someone he’s just working with. 

Seonghwa got in too deep, and that’s nobody’s fault but his own. 

Yeosang dances around Seonghwa for the rest of the week, but not for Seonghwa’s fair share of avoidance as well. Seonghwa throws himself into another mission that has him gone for a weekend, not to mention the slew of paperwork that follows for a week.

It’s not until Yeosang bursts into his office one evening, eyes wide with excitement, and holds up a key for Seonghwa to see. “It’s the key to his warehouse!” Yeosang’s chest was racing with excitement.

“Uh, what?” Seonghwa raises an eyebrow.

“The key to his warehouse! His hideout! He told me he was glad to see me coming to my senses. He wants me to start learning more of the family business, he wants me to be involved with part of it. I’m disgusted, because it’s my fucking father and he’s a piece of shit, but this is good news! We’re a step closer to our goal!”

Seonghwa smiles a little. “That’s great. I know you’ve been… stretched thin, having to be around him so much. I know you’ve got a loathing for him, and I really- I appreciate this. Having your help in it all, and your advice. I don’t think we would have ever really gotten to him if we hadn’t listened to you. So thank you. I appreciate you.” Seonghwa’s muscles are stiff on this one, his worlds jolted and unsure, all of it a bit awkward. 

“I know. That’s because I’m the brains of this operation. And I know my father better than everyone out there. I can read his moods, his emotions, his language. Killing me never would have mattered to him. His best friends died in a suicide mission he sent them on. He never shed a single tear. Hurting those close to him never made a difference to him, including my brother and I,” Yeosang shrugs but he’s smiling coyly. “Why do you think I have these scars?”

Seonghwa is shocked into silence. “Yeosang, I-”

“No, it’s okay. It was his terrible attempt at making us into his mold of what he wanted us to be. Yes, he hurt us, but not like most parents would. He tried to train us, to push us to be a part of his mafia. It was maybe a much more sick way of hurting us, but it wasn’t meant to emotionally traumatize us. If anything, he was trying to get us to be stronger.”

“Still… Yeosang that’s awful. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that.” Seonghwa’s chest feels tight, and he feels sympathetic towards Yeosang. He’s dealt with so much pain, so much sadness, and yet, he only wants to be better. He wants to do better, to feel better, to make the world better. 

“It’s alright, really. It did push me, it pushed me to not want to be like him. It showed me strength. It showed me resilience. Besides, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Yeosang gestures to himself. 

Seonghwa has the strongest urge to wrap him up in a hug. But he refrains. 

Seonghwa is getting awfully good at that.

About a month later, and Yeosang is getting intel on the group, telling them his ongoing work and his imports, as well as gaining a list of companies and names working for him. Hongjoong is thrilled to have this information, and his father is beyond proud. Seonghwa works on other missions, cleaning up thoroughly, making it a reminder to himself that this is just another case. Special, maybe, since Seonghwa isn’t going to be doing any killing, and they’re just going to take Kang down. But just another case, nonetheless. 

He has to ignore the soft feeling in his chest every time that Yeosang smiles, or pretend that his heart doesn’t flutter when Yeosang laughs. He pushes down the lust while they train, pretends he doesn’t notice the way Yeosang’s growing more toned, less twig like and a little more muscle. He acts like he’s not proud of Yeosang’s progress, like they’re not living under the same roof and Yeosang isn’t making leaps in his life, getting hired at a prestigious law firm. Seonghwa’s poker face is growing stronger, not that he had a weak one to begin with. It’s just increased ten-fold. 

He’s in love. He’s known Yeosang for barely three months now, but he’s in love with him. Completely and utterly head over heels for someone who was just meant to be a target. And the worst part is, Seonghwa thinks, is that he knows there’s some kind of attraction on Yeosang’s end. Maybe not feelings, but he knows Yeosang finds him hot enough that he wanted to make out with him, and he knows Yeosang’s gotten off to him before, so there’s potential of wanting there. The worst part of it all, is that it’s not unrequited. Seonghwa just can’t have him. 

He can’t be in love with someone who’s a mission. Someone who’s memory will be erased of all evidence of Seonghwa, someone who’s going to be a part of a thorough clean up. Yeosang can’t be more than a mission, and these stupid feelings are tearing Seonghwa apart.

“Seonghwa?” Yeosang’s voice greets his ears like a gentle ray of sun in the beginnings of springtime. Seonghwa is immediately at attention, turning away from whatever paperwork is on his desk.

“Yes?” Seonghwa’s voice is soft, and there’s a hint of eagerness behind it. 

“I was just wondering what you’re up to… I got my first paycheck from the law firm this week, and the takeover is tomorrow… Maybe we could go out for dinner? As a celebration?”

No. No is the answer, Seonghwa has work to do, and he can’t spend time like that with Yeosang, not when he’s in love with him, he can’t go to dinner-

“Yes. That sounds great.” Seonghwa smiles. 

“Great, I was thinking about this place downtown, it’s got fancy sushi, and gourmet noodle dishes? It’s a little higher end but still gives off hipster college student vibes,” Yeosang explains, as he pulls up the web page for the restaurant on his phone.

“Sounds good! Wanna leave in like, an hour?”

“Yeah! That’s good!”

Seonghwa kicks himself for this one. 

Dinner is great, and Yeosang is positively glowing, and Seonghwa is having a good time, a better time than he’s allowed himself to have in weeks. They discuss the details of the mission and Yeosang’s new job. Everything is perfect, and for a few hours, he doesn’t have to pretend. He doesn’t have to pretend not to notice the way that Yeosang looks at him like he holds the stars, or the way that Yeosang gravitates towards his side as they walk down the sidewalk, the street lights shining overhead. He doesn’t have to pretend that Yeosang shouldn’t be taking his hand as they walk, or leaning against his shoulder as he laughs about something. 

Seonghwa, for a moment in time, is completely unthinking and unpretending. His heartbeat quickens when Yeosang smiles at him, and his stomach is tied in knots, and his hand is warm in Yeosang’s, perfectly slotted together. Their steps are almost in rhythm, matching perfectly together, and their smiles are bright, their faces hurting from smiling so much. For a moment in time, to the outside eye, they’re in love. 

When they come back to the apartment, reality crashes back down on Seonghwa like a cold, brutal, ocean tide. He lets go of Yeosang’s hand, pretending that it’s to take his shoes and jacket off, but he has no intention of taking the hand back in his, he has no intention of letting himself have that luxury again. 

Yeosang doesn’t seem to notice, taking his own shoes and coat off, looking impeccably soft in the white cable knit sweater that he wore to dinner. “Want to watch a movie? I don’t have to work tomorrow,” Yeosang suggests. 

Seonghwa is walking on eggshells. “Yeah, sure.” Seonghwa urges himself not to sound too eager, bordering on disinterested. 

But they both know that’s not how he sounds. 

They sit on the couch, Seonghwa making a conscious effort to sit as far from Yeosang as he can without it seeming suspicious. The movie begins and Seonghwa focuses all his attention on the screen, pretending not to notice the way Yeosang’s leg is bouncing, knee fluttering like a vibration. He also chooses not to think about the last time they had a movie night, how it ended, and the way Yeosang’s lips felt on his own. Seonghwa is ready to start bouncing his own leg now, nervous energy zipping through him, the eggshells jabbing into his skin on every inch of his body. About twenty minutes in, Yeosang stands up, announcing he’s going to change into comfortable clothes. 

Seonghwa nods in response, unsure if there’s even an appropriate response to that statement. Yeosang returns a few minutes later in an oversized sweater that hits mid thigh, and frankly, that’s it. There’s a possibility he has the tiniest shorts on under it, but all Seonghwa can see is the beautiful golden sea of his skin, his slender legs seeming to go on for days, despite Yeosang not being all that tall. 

Seonghwa’s mouth waters, and he doesn’t realize he’s staring until Yeosang is walking towards him, sending Seonghwa’s heart into a flutter, and he has to tear his eyes away. Yeosang plops back down on the couch, very much just a few inches away from Seonghwa, and drapes a blanket over the both of them. “I thought we could be cozy,” Yeosang says softly. 

Seonghwa can only swallow and nod in response, utterly terrified at their closeness. He can’t do this. He can’t slip into Yeosang like this, he can’t give into his feelings. Seonghwa invests his every thought into every syllable of every word the actors speak, concentrating solely on that and not the warmth radiating off Yeosang beside him. 

“Are you  _ that _ interested in this movie? I didn’t think it was that good,” Yeosang chuckles, and Seonghwa is immediately snapped out of his focus, turning to look at the younger. Yeosang is smiling and it feels like a summer breeze gracing Seonghwa’s skin. 

“What?”

“You were really focused on it. Like, brows furrowed, angry thinking face, like you were only zoned in on the movie. I just wasn’t that into it, so I was surprised that you were,” he explains. And then Seonghwa notices that Yeosang isn’t looking at him, he’s staring at his lips, and leaning forward a bit, very hesitantly.

Seonghwa finds himself leaning in as well, lips parted just so, heart racing. Yeosang’s eyes meet his own for just a moment, half lidded and lashes fluttering against his cheekbones, and then they flutter shut, and he leans forward more. Something in Seonghwa breaks.

He surges forward, pressing their mouths together in a fumbling kiss, his heart rate going through the roof. Yeosang responds immediately, pressing forward and reaching up to sling his arms around Seonghwa’s shoulders. Seonghwa’s hands find their way to Yeosang’s hips.  _ This. This _ feels so right, it feels good, it feels like breathing. It’s natural and makes Seonghwa’s chest feel light and fluttery. Yeosang presses further, deepening the kiss a little more, as though he’s hesitating.

And he probably is, considering the last time they kissed Seonghwa pushed him away. 

But now isn’t the time to think about that. 

Seonghwa deepens the kiss, opening his mouth as an invitation, and Yeosang’s tongue licks into his mouth eagerly. Yeosang shifts, climbing into his lap, straddling either side of his hips. Seonghwa’s hands are all over Yeosang now, fingertips gripping every inch of Yeosang’s body they touch. Yeosang’s own hands are on Seonghwa’s shoulders, holding him as tightly as he can. Seonghwa’s hands slide up under Yeosang’s sweater, fingers grazing skin, and then pulling him closer, clutching onto him, as if he were to let go, the moment would be over, gone from existence. Seonghwa doesn’t want that. 

Yeosang’s tongue brushes along Seonghwa’s lower lip, mouth widening into an open mouthed kiss, begging for more. Seonghwa’s own lips part more, and Yeosang’s tongue slides along his teeth, just enough to be teasing, and then tentatively it slips into Seonghwa’s mouth the rest of the way, feeling hot and wet along the side of his own tongue. Seonghwa presses his tongue against Yeosang’s a little, letting him know this is good, this is what he wants. 

Then he feels Yeosang’s hands travel to his hair, running along his scalp, brushing the hair back off his forehead a little. Seonghwa surges forward a little to nip at Yeosang’s lower lip, and Yeosang’s fingers tighten in his hair. Seonghwa notices the sound that Yeosang makes, just a small whine, but  _ shit _ , does it send Seonghwa. He feels too much all at once, but in the best way possible. 

Yeosang is grinding in his lap now, making Seonghwa let out the smallest of moans, the sound caught in Yeosang’s mouth on his. Yeosang’s hands move to grab one of Seonghwa’s wrist, moving his hand down to Yeosang’s crotch, letting out another whine when it rests there. Yeosang is hard under Seonghwa’s hand. He palms him through the little shorts he has on, making Yeosang moan loud enough to break away from the kiss. Seonghwa continues moving his hand, eyes fluttering open enough to look at the other, eyes closed and head tipping to the side a little, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

He’s beautiful, expression of bliss, cheeks flushed, lips slightly swollen and parted enough to practically show the puffs of air leaving them. He looks like a work of erotic art, the image burned into Seonghwa’s mind, one of the prettiest things he’s ever seen.

Yeosang must feel him looking at him, because his eyes flutter open a little, and his ears get a little red at the tips, and he seems to come back to reality from his little ecstasy bubble. He gets a little less limp and moves forward again, this time not for a kiss but instead to mouth along Seonghwa’s jaw and down his neck, lips warm against Seonghwa’s skin. He rests a hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder while he does so, fingers curling at the collar of the black button down he’s wearing. His teeth graze Seonghwa’s neck, sending shivers down Seonghwa’s body. Seonghwa continues to palm Yeosang, and Yeosang continues to grind down on Seonghwa’s dick.

Yeosang nips at Seonghwa’s earlobe, causing a moan to tumble from Seonghwa’s lips, head falling back against the back of the couch. Yeosang lets out a quiet, breathless giggle. “I want you to fuck me, Seonghwa,” he says, voice breathy and low. Seonghwa’s head fills with static for a brief moment at that. Seonghwa didn’t think he could get any harder, but here he is, Yeosang asking him to fuck him, and Seonghwa doesn’t quite know what to do with this information. His hand even falters in it’s movements, and his eyes are wide with shock. 

Yeosang laughs a little, but then pouts a little. “Seonghwa, please, I  _ need  _ you,” he whines. That snaps Seonghwa back to the moment, and he grips Yeosang’s hips, lifting him up as he stands up. Yeosang wraps his legs around Seonghwa’s waist, arms slung around Seonghwa’s neck, and then kisses him again, hungry and wanting. Seonghwa stumbles towards the hallway blindly, being careful not to bump into anything. He makes it to his room and kicks the door shut, setting Yeosang down on his bed. Yeosang grabs the hem of his sweater and tugs it up over his head, tossing it aside, and he looks up at Seonghwa with a smirk. 

“Fuck, Yeosang, you’re gorgeous,” Seonghwa says, drinking in his lean frame and expanse of golden skin, the way the shorts hug his hips and stop a few inches down his thighs, the way his hair is mussed and the pink of his cheeks. 

Yeosang reaches for him, undoing the zipper and the button on his jeans, pushing them down Seonghwa’s thighs. Seonghwa helps, stepping out of them, and then Yeosang grabs onto the bottom of his button down and tugs him towards him, laying back on the bed. Seonghwa follows, climbing onto the bed, straddling his hips, leaning over him. Yeosang’s fingers start on the buttons of Seonghwa’s shirt, nimbly undoing them, and when it’s all undone, his hands graze over Seonghwa’s torso, taking him in. Yeosang looks up at Seonghwa above him and grabs his face, pulling him close to kiss him again.

Seonghwa’s body is pressed against Yeosang’s, and the friction is unbearable in the hottest way, desire fueling the both of them on. Their tongues tangle together, no longer a slow, hesitant pace, but now burning and hungry. Seonghwa pulls away to reach for his bedside table, pulling lube and a condom out of the drawer, Yeosang watching his every move. He shrugs his shirt the rest of the way off in the process, and Yeosang wriggles out of his underwear, looking at him with dark, lust filled eyes. 

“I wanna suck your dick, can I?” Yeosang practically whines. Seonghwa’s brain malfunctions again but he nods vigorously. Yeosang practically pounces on him, pushing him back against the pillows, sitting between his legs as he reaches for Seonghwa’s underwear to tug them off as well. Seonghwa suddenly feels almost self conscious with Yeosang’s eyes drinking him in like he is. He knows he’s attractive, but something about the way that it’s  _ Yeosang _ , suddenly he feels almost like he needs to impress him. 

“Oh my  _ god _ , Seonghwa,” Yeosang practically moans at the sight of him. “What god sculpted you? You’re fucking immaculate, absolutely perfect... _ ”  _ Yeosang’s hands are all over his body, and then he’s leaning down, gazing up at Seonghwa with those  _ eyes, _ and he licks the tip of his dick, teasing enough to make Seonghwa groan loudly. Yeosang smirks and wraps his mouth around him. Seonghwa’s head falls back against the pillows and he tangles a hand in Yeosang’s hair. 

Yeosang’s tongue is heavenly against him, and it takes everything in Seonghwa not to fuck into his mouth. It’s so much in the best way, the wet heat of Yeosang’s mouth on his cock, the softness of his hair between his fingers, the little sounds Yeosang makes when he hits the back of his throat. It doesn’t take long for Seonghwa to creep towards the edge of his orgasm, feeling the heat building up in his gut. 

“Yeosang, Yeosang, stop, I’m close,” Seonghwa pants. Yeosang pulls away, smirking and looking absolutely wrecked. Seonghwa sighs in relief, but is quick to reach for the lube on the bed beside him, gesturing for Yeosang to come closer. He obliges, settling in Seonghwa’s lap, watching Seonghwa uncap the bottle. 

“I don’t need much prep. I fingered myself in the shower earlier,” Yeosang gives him a playful grin, like it’s such a casual thing to say, like he hadn’t planned for things to go this way, or anything. Seonghwa yet again falters, but proceeds to squeeze some lube onto his fingers anyways and rubs at Yeosang’s entrance, watching the way his eyes flutter shut. He lets out a hum and reaches forward to rest his forehead on Seonghwa’s shoulder. Seonghwa slowly slides his finger in.

The sound that tumbles from Yeosang’s lips is lewd, Yeosang going pliant in his hold. It doesn’t take much time before he’s begging for another finger, to which Seonghwa complies without question. Seonghwa watches the way Yeosang is falling apart before him in the most beautiful way. 

Finally he gets a third finger in before Yeosang’s impatience shines through again, as he writhes and begs to get fucked once more. Seonghwa tears open the condom packet with his teeth and rolls it on, kissing Yeosang as he does so, and adds a little more lube, Yeosang pulling away from the kiss to line himself up. He sinks down on Seonghwa’s dick, making Seonghwa moan. He can’t remember the last time he had sex, and the feeling of Yeosang around his cock is  _ heavenly _ . Yeosang’s head rolls back and he hums when he’s comfortable.

“You can move, Seonghwa, god, this feels  _ so good,” _ he half moans. Seonghwa has one hand on Yeosang’s hip as he moves, and the other wraps around Yeosang’s dick, pumping at the same time as he thrusts. There’s some hesitation, waiting to make sure everything is okay, but Yeosang just nods, letting him know he can keep going. It goes like that for a few minutes, Seonghwa thrusting into Yeosang and his hand working around Yeosang’s cock, before Yeosang jerks like a shock went through him, and he swears rather loudly. “There,  _ there, _ oh my- fuck, Seonghwa, that’s it-”

Seonghwa moves faster, at the same time Yeosang begins to fuck down on Seonghwa, riding him to get the spot just right, and then his hips are stuttering and he’s coming, and Seonghwa fucks into him a few more times until his own hips jerk and his body shakes, and the orgasm rips through his body, pulling a long moan from his throat. 

Yeosang moves, getting off Seonghwa and laying beside him, chest heaving, eyelids heavy, and Seonghwa pulls the used condom off and tosses it aside, staring up at the ceiling as the high of his orgasm clouds his mind. Yeosang slips under the blankets, moving closer to Seonghwa, who stands for long enough to walk to the bathroom and clean himself up a little, before returning to his bed and collapsing beside Yeosang. The silence between them isn’t uncomfortable, though neither of them are sure what to say. Seonghwa opens his mouth to say something, ask him if he can believe it all, that they’re planning the take down of Yeosang’s father for tomorrow night. If he can believe the time has passed so quickly since he met Yeosang. If he can believe they just  _ did that _ , had sex with each other, if he can believe the way they go so well together.

But Yeosang is asleep, and all the words catch in Seonghwa’s throat. He needs sleep .He needs sleep before all the disbelief hits him. Before he thinks too hard about tomorrow being his last day with Yeosang. 

Seonghwa wakes the next morning with Yeosang tucked into his side, sleeping soundly and naked, his hair rumpled with sleep. It’s the early hours of dawn, hours that Seonghwa knows he shouldn’t be awake at. And then the panic sets in, after a few moments of admiring Yeosang’s beautiful features, at peace with sleep. He slept with Yeosang. 

He had sex with his… mission? Roommate? Friend? Task?

Messy. 

It was all too messy, it shouldn’t have happened. It shouldn’t have happened, they shouldn’t have done it, Seonghwa never should have blurred the lines, mission or friend. Seonghwa never should have fallen in love with Yeosang in the first place. Feelings are messy, love is messy, loving someone that played a role in his life the way Yeosang did, was messy. Seonghwa hates messy. He can’t deal with messy- he never has, and that’s why he gave up dating. 

Besides, they were carrying out the takeover tonight, and Yeosang wouldn’t be in his life anymore. He’d move on, he’d be the best goddamn lawyer in the city, hell, maybe even the country, and he’d live a normal life, one without his father or his brother to cause him trouble and pain, without Seonghwa, whose whole life was just strange, and not normal, and violent, and-

Yeosang stirs in his sleep beside Seonghwa, a painful reminder of how messed up Seonghwa made everything. He watches Yeosang’s lashes flutter against his cheeks, and hears the sigh he lets out as he nuzzles closer to Seonghwa. A pang in his chest, at the knowledge that this is the only time that Seonghwa would be able to have this, to hold Yeosang to his chest like this, to see the way he comes undone, or how clingy he gets after sex. This would be the last day to hear his laughter, the last day to look at the crinkle by his eyes when he smiles, or the golden perfection of his skin. He’d miss his chocolate colored eyes, the fluffy sweaters, and Yeosang’s bedhead. He’d miss the way Yeosang carried himself, the way he wanted to make the world better, the passion he had for things, the happiness and strength he radiated. 

Seonghwa doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels the tightness in his chest and a little sob slips past his lips. He needs to get up. He can’t disturb Yeosang. Somehow he manages to get away from Yeosang without jostling him enough to wake him up. He runs to the bathroom and shuts the door as quietly as possible, biting his lip so hard he’s pretty sure he’s going to break skin. The second the door is closed, he sinks to the ground, chest heaving as he cries.

He takes a shower to further muffle his sounds, and the water is cold by the time he pulls himself together. Productivity, that’s how he’ll move on. Go for a run, head to HQ and double check that everything is in order for the plan tonight. Avoidance is more like it. Avoid Yeosang, his only goal. Avoid Yeosang, avoid thinking about it all, avoid saying goodbye. He shuts the water off and dries off robotically, changing into running clothes, Yeosang now sprawled across the whole bed.

He goes for a run, watching the sun come up, not wanting to return home. He goes to headquarters instead, changing into the spare clothes in his locker. Everything feels numb now, as he stares at the plans on the table before him. Seonghwa doesn’t know how long he stares at them, reading them over and over again, remembering his position in all of this. 

He’s the one who’s leading the ambush on the warehouse. He’s just an agent, an assassin. He’s just supposed to get Kang Yeongjun down on the ground, so they can arrest him. So Yeosang can nail him, so he doesn’t have to see him ever again. He’s just supposed to play his part in this plan, this plan that isn’t his, but Yeosang’s. He’s nothing to Yeosang, he’s just a hookup. Just the guy who broke into his house to kill him, who he took care of while he was feverish. Just the guy that he teamed up with to achieve a mutual goal: take down Kang Yeongjun and his empire. 

Seonghwa sighs heavily. Barely three hours have passed since he left this morning. It’s hardly even 8 am. Today would be hell, waiting for the moment that the mission is complete, waiting for the moment that he’d have to say goodbye to Yeosang. And then he’d hurt for a while, like it does when he gets hurt, when he can’t go on a mission until he’s healed, and then he can return to work. Only he’s not anticipating feeling better, he’s dreading it, since that would mean he’d be over Yeosang, and that’s something that Seonghwa can’t handle the thought of. 

He drags himself out of the chair and decides to go find Hongjoong instead.

The hours crawl by until dark, and Seonghwa spends them all at headquarters. 9 pm rolls around and he’s gearing up to go, himself and other well trained agents climbing into cars. Yeosang shows up, dressed in a button down and slacks, as well as a long overcoat, to keep the cold out. Seonghwa averts his eyes, pretending to focus on the boot he’s lacing up. It doesn’t work, though, since Yeosang approaches him anyways, setting a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey. Good luck in there. Give him a good punch in the nose for me, yeah?” Yeosang laughs a little. Seonghwa’s heart aches, and he finally uprights himself, facing towards him 

“I will. The key?” Seonghwa holds a hand out for it, and Yeosang fishes it out of his pocket, holding it out for Seonghwa to take. 

“I’m kind of excited. This is all I wanted for so long,” Yeosang’s voice almost sounds bittersweet. “It’s what I’ve worked so hard for, and it’s taken so long. It almost seems anticlimactic. Like, what am I going to do after this?”

“You’ll continue to bring justice to the world. Put criminals away, help people in trouble. You’ll be the best damn lawyer in the country,” Seonghwa looks up at him now, pretending like his eyes aren’t watering. Yeosang is gazing up at him with his sparkly eyes. “Go get in your car. The body cams will catch us taking him down, if you want to see the footage. Hongjoong and Jongho will be in the car with you.”

Yeosang smiles. “Thank you, Seonghwa. For everything.”

Seonghwa just gives him a half smile and heads to his car, leading the charge. He turns the button on in his earpiece, and Jongho’s voice crackles over his earpiece. “You ready Seonghwa?”

“No.” Seonghwa manages to get out. 

“Yeosang?”

“This is it. This is my last night with him. And then it’s goodbye,” he manages to whisper. 

“It’ll be okay.”

A tear rolls down his cheek, which he lets dry there, staring at the road ahead. Yunho and Mingi climb into his black car with him, as well as one of their newer agents, who Seonghwa is pretty sure is named San. He starts the car, and the engine is quiet, a necessity for their mission. Nobody in the car says anything, aside from making initial contact to their tech. The three of them are all going to be a unit, and they’ll be just behind Seonghwa. There’s eight other units, all consisting of 4-5 men, armed to take down guards, and keep them away from Seonghwa. Seonghwa’s main mission: get Kang Yeongjun handcuffed, and on the ground, until the arrests are made. 

“Put me over the waves, Jongho.” Seonghwa commands to his earpiece. 

“Patching. On air.”

“Roll out.” Seonghwa says, and the rest of the cars in the garage come to life, and Seonghwa peels out of the parking spot, following the GPS route that Jongho had input to him. The rest of the cars all follow for the most part, until they begin splitting off to come to the warehouse at different angles. Only three cars are left by the time they’re turning onto the road in front of the warehouse, and one of them stops about a half a mile out, and Seonghwa and the second car keep driving. Seonghwa parks in a parking lot across the street, and the final car goes another half mile down the road to its location. 

Seonghwa watches each little colored dot on the GPS, each color a different unit, until everyone is in place. They’re waiting on his word, to approach the warehouse. “Patch me in again, Jongho.”

“Patched.”

“Move in. Techs, keep eyes on location. Remember, every unit arrives at the same time. Don’t give them the chance to raise the alarm. West units, start first. You’re the farthest out. East and North, go in five. Be aware of the patrol units they have out. There should be six pairs of them throughout the grounds, on the move. Jongho has the security footage streaming to your techs, and they’ll alert you if they’re near. Good luck, everyone stay safe.” 

“Cameras for the west unit are down, the farthest ones out. Only we have the streamed footage. Only three one of seven cameras down, no suspicions raised. East and north units farthest cameras are next, patching the outermost west cameras next…” Jongho’s voice comes through clear, and Seonghwa tunes him out. These orders are more for the other techs, not Seonghwa. 

“You gonna be okay, Seonghwa?” Yunho’s voice meets his ear softly. 

“I’ll be fine. Just another mission.” Seonghwa’s voice is cold. He refuses to think of Yeosang now. His head needs to be working. 

“South units start moving. Your cameras are down now,” Jongho says in his ear. Seonghwa waits five minutes, waiting for Jongho to give him the go ahead. 

“All units closing in. Approach, Seonghwa. Four guards at the main gate, an easy get in. I’m shutting down the security system now.”

Seonghwa shuts his car off and steps out, the rest of his unit following suit. They go ahead to take care of the guards, and Seonghwa walks behind, knowing his only role here is Kang Yeongjun. He watches them knock the four guards out and take their gear, tying them up at the gate. Seonghwa starts scaling the front gate, swinging over and dropping down. He can see other units moving in the shadows, hiding behind shipping containers and old junk cars, getting to the access points. 

Seonghwa sees two men in cheesy guard uniforms round a corner, spotting him. One of them charges, the other one hits his radio button. A shadow slips forward and hits the pressure point on the back of his neck, collapsing him to the ground before he can even take a breath to speak into the radio. Yunho drops on the guy charging at Seonghwa, swiftly taking him down. Seonghwa continues on to the front door of the warehouse, ducking to the side and waiting for the go ahead that the entrances are all clear of guards. Yunho knocks, drawing the guards out from the front entryway, and Mingi and the other agent take the three guards down with ease. Yunho slips in, weapon raised, Mingi on his tail. Jongho comes back over the headpiece. 

“Cameras are down by the front entrance. Get in in ten seconds to avoid suspicion.”

“All clear, Seonghwa.” Yunho’s voice is in his ear now, and Seonghwa slips in behind them, weapon ready in case of ambush.

“I’m in, Jongho.” 

“Cameras back up.”

“Yunho, Mingi, pose as the guards,” Seonghwa orders.

“San, go with him. In case he needs backup. North and west sides of the building have been entered, the east side is getting a little more trouble, since they were closest to the weapons store. Heavier security. No casualties on our end, only one on their end. Two men from the west unit are in place as guards. Looking through the security footage of the upstairs. It’s just a loft, a platform around the upper half of the building. Easily seen from the warehouse floor. Stick as close to the wall as possible. There’s three men in the corridor you’re about to enter. Can’t see into any of the rooms, but there are 6 doors on that half of the warehouse. Check them all.”

“Thanks, Jongho.”

“Sending two men from the north to clear the right corridor, and another man from west to help you and San. Sit tight where you are, you’re out of sight of the cameras for now.”

Seonghwa waits for the third man to join their unit, before the three of them make their way up the metal stairs. The warehouse is well lit, making it hard to stick to the shadows, and it smells like sawdust and metal. The downstairs was all open, from what Seonghwa could see through the doorway, and full of wooden crates. It’s likely that they contained weapons or drugs. 

The three of them make a conscious effort to keep their footsteps light and soft, since the metal walls refracted every little rustle of clothing to sound like a roar. Vaulted ceilings and lack of soft surfaces made sound a struggle. The first door they come across is shut tight and locked, so the third agent with them slips forward with his lockpick and gets it open in no time. They peek in and see it’s a store room of cleaning supplies. Nothing of value. 

“Excuse me, what are you looking for?” A gruff voice calls to them, San whipping his head to look at the source of the voice. 

The man’s face changes, when he realizes that they’re not anyone in the Kang group. He seems to notice now that they’re not just in guard uniform, and he turns to raise the alarm. San surges forward, attacking the man with fervor. The man fights back, grunting loudly as he does, shouting for the other guards. Footsteps approach, and Seonghwa swears. The other agent surges to meet the two approaching guards, and Seonghwa follows him to help. The guards pull guns on the three of them, telling them to back down. Seonghwa knows the gunfire would be terrible, without a doubt giving them away. 

“Jongho, backup, now.” Seonghwa demands. 

“Already on it. Two people coming from behind. About to attack… now.”

Two of the ‘shadows’ descend on the guards, knocking the both of them out. This is a rare instance in which assassins won’t be killing their targets. This is a by the books mission, not an assassin mission. With the guards down, San gets the initial man down, and knocked out. Seonghwa breaches the next door, only to find the security room. The two men sitting at the desk whirl around in shock and Seonghwa pressure points both of them before they can think to attack. They slump forward at their desk. 

The next door is a store room, full of crates. The fourth door they reach has a kitchenette in it, and four men occupying it. Seonghwa suffers a black eye, but that’s about all, San and the other agent quickly stepping up and having his back. They round the corner after that door, and enter the back most hallway in the building. There’s only one door in this hallway, and it’s guarded by four more guards. San approaches first, but the guards raise their weapons, unafraid to fire. 

“Jongho, backup. Lights down, or something. We can’t have gunfire. This has to be the office, it’s heavily guarded.”

“Lights shutting off now.”

Just as he says that, the first bullet fires, and the lights go down. San and the other agent hit the deck, Seonghwa can hear them drop, and he slinks along the wall in the close to pitch black. They fire into nothing, gunfire lighting up brief flashes of light. Their lenses go into night mode, projecting night camera vision into their eyes. Their targets can’t spot them, but they can see them with ease. 

Seonghwa has no choice. “Fire back. We’ll never get them without them killing us first.”

So they do. Careful, though, not to hit them in places that will kill them, just enough to startle them into dropping their weapons and let agents sneak in from behind them. Unfortunately, their gunfire has likely clued whoever is in the head office to their arrival. Seonghwa doesn’t wait for the rest of the rest of the agents to be done taking out the guards before he’s slamming past them all and bursting into the room. The window is open, blinds haphazardly broken and shoved aside to make for an escape. Seonghwa leans his head out, searching for evidence of where he’d gone. 

“Jongho, he’s gone, get backup out here and protecting the premises, now. Watch all cameras, he can’t get away.” Seonghwa jumps as a gun fires, retracting his head into the window. The bullet fired down through the tin roof below, presumably where the store room was. Seonghwa peers up, seeing someone in the crane tower of the warehouse yard, armed and firing. He shoots again, aiming for the window this time. 

“Heard it. Sending agents out now, everyone watching the perimeter.”

“Sniper in the crane tower.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit is right. Send San to the base of the tower while I have him distracted. He should be able to climb up the ladder unnoticed if I’m distracting him.”

“You know what kind of gun he has?” Jongho asks. 

“Nope. Just gotta hope that I can outrun his fire.”

“Seonghwa this is stupid.”

“They gave me a vest for a reason,” is all Seonghwa says before he’s hauling himself over the windowsill and dropping onto the roof below. He lets himself roll down the roof a little, hears the familiar sound of bullets shooting through tin, and he scrambles to his feet and across the roof, all the way to the edge, gunfire chasing hot on his heels. He doesn’t have time to waste, he drops off the edge of the roof, relaxing his muscles as he knows to do to avoid breaking bones. He hits the ground with an ‘oof,’ the wind leaving his chest. One way he could go to avoid getting shot at is back along the building, or he could go right and sprint for the trees, to properly give San the time to get to the tower. 

He gives himself a minute, knowing the sniper will be aimed directly at the corner of the building, anticipating his move. So he sprints forward ten feet and then dashes across the opening. The first bullet hits the corner of the warehouse, and then it’s chasing after his tail. His trick worked, his intuition was right. He runs as fast as his body will take him to the treeline, ducking behind the closest one he reaches, and then forges deeper into the tree cover. He can just barely see the sniper aimed into the treeline, and he sees San just reaching the base of the tower, with two other agents and a smoke bomb in hand. Seonghwa radios to them over his earpiece. 

“All clear. I’m gonna try and keep him busy. And try to find Kang.”

“Got it. Be careful, Seonghwa.”

“You too.” Seonghwa takes a moment to look around him, searching for any footprints to disturb the wet earth under the trees. Other than his own, he sees nothing recent. He doubles back the way he came and scans the treeline going opposite of him, but still sees no new prints. So Kang was still somewhere on the scene. 

“Jongho, I’m not seeing any prints on the edge of the treeline. I don’t think he came this way to escape, but keep guard posted around the edges of the property. Anything on the cameras?” 

“He ran into the store room door shortly before you decided to distract the snipers. No agents are in the room, but there are two outside the door. The rest were sent for the fences. They haven’t reported him coming out. He’s still in there, by my guess.”

“Sweet. Caught like a rat in a trap. I’m going in.”

“Careful. Dino radioed me a while ago, when the east unit stormed the weapons store. There are crates of explosives. Don’t hit any of them too hard. Or fire at them. And be careful of Kang, it’s likely that he’s armed himself.”

“Thanks. Going in.”

He spares another look up at the tower, seeing smoke pouring from the windows and the entrance at the floor. Two agents are waiting at the bottom, and San is repelling back down the side of the tower, to avoid a brawl on the ladder. The sniper comes stumbling out of the entrance and down the ladder. Seonghwa can hear his coughs from here. He doesn’t see the patrol men approaching him, but he hears the tags on the dogs’ collars as they race towards him. Seonghwa swears and makes a break for the weapons room door, the guard dogs hot on his heels. He shuts the door as quickly as he can, the dogs snarling outside it. Shit. 

A shot rings out, making Seonghwa duck and roll to his right, the bullet hitting the wall beside him and ricocheting. Kang Yeongjun. Seonghwa arms himself, taking cover behind a crate labeled “ammunition” in big, bold, red, military grade print. 

“You must be the leader of the raid on my warehouse,” a voice calls out. 

“Jongho, pinpoint. I’ll keep him talking,” Seonghwa whispers to his voice headset. 

“What gang are you working for? The Mins? How about the Park empire?” Yeongjun continues. “Or that Ahn bitch, maybe. She’s hot, but she’s young and has no clue how to run what her father left her. Backstabs her loyalties.”

“I’m a Park,” Seonghwa says, not totally lying. He is in fact, a Park, though not one of the drug empire. 

“Bastards. You the son? Or just a henchman?”

“Can’t say more than that. But I know your son.”

“Yeonho? He’s an idiot, though he’s loyal.”

“Where is he? My business is with him,” Seonghwa lies through his teeth. He stands, well knowing that Yeongjun will fire at him. He climbs on top of a crate and moves forward a row, dropping to the floor when the gun is fired at him. 

“More towards the corner, Seonghwa. Try and keep moving forward, it’s a big room and it’ll be easier to pinpoint him from here,” Jongho’s voice comes over his headset, and Seonghwa can hear the clacking of his keyboard and the radar beeping in the background. 

“Told that brat not to make enemies with your clan. He doesn’t listen. An idiot, like I said.” Yeongjun’s voice bounces off the wall behind Seonghwa. 

“Thermal sensors on my lenses are on. There’s too much obstructing the line of sight to him,” Seonghwa mutters. “Yeah, he did some real dumb shit to us. Sold one of our rings out to the police, don’t you know? Didn’t you see the mass arrest of drug producers?”

“Yeonho? In with the cops? He’d never mess with those fuckers. Yeosang, on the other hand, was a goody two shoes his whole life. Suddenly showed some interest, though. I was pleased about it, thought he finally was sick of being a sad lonely little bastard and wanted to know what I had prepared him for his whole sorry life. I knew it seemed suspicious, though. Why now? Who did that little brat finally make friends with? Now I know,” Yeongjun’s voice is full of loathing. 

Seonghwa feels rage fill his body. How could he say something like that about Yeosang? How could he sound so full of malice, when he was the one who put Yeosang through so much misery in his life? Seonghwa’s vision is painted green with disgust and his heart is red with rage, wishing this had been his original mission, to kill Kang Yeongjun in cold blood. But he can’t. Not this time. This isn’t his battle, this is Yeosang’s.

“Never heard of Kang Yeosang. Never knew you had a second son,” Seonghwa says. 

“Wasn’t worth talking about. Wasn’t worth the time I let my guard down for him, and now here I am, about to face my death. That’s why you’re here, ain’t it?” 

“No. I’m here for justice.”

Yeongjun’s bitter laugh rings out through the store room, a wicked sound. “What a load of bullshit. The Park empire is the farthest thing from noble. So who do you really work for, stranger?”

“Seonghwa, behind you!” Jongho warns in his ear, giving Seonghwa enough time to duck and roll to the side, as Yeongjun slams into the side of the crate. He’s got a gun in his hand, and he’s already aiming it at Seonghwa. Seonghwa dodges out of the way again as Yeongjun fires. He runs through a row of crates and ducks to the left, down another walkway of crates, taking cover behind one of them. 

He loads his own weapon, ready for Yeongjun to appear again. Seonghwa speaks up. “Classified.”

“Ah, secret service kind of work. How did you manage to track me down, eh?”

“Because you’re an imbecile, and you’re terrible at cleaning up your own tracks.”

“A hitman?”

“Something of the sorts.”

“Voice is to the right, in the corner,” Jongho adds. “Thermal reading should work, not as many crates in the way.”

Seonghwa activates his lenses again, honing in on the corner. Sure enough, there’s a figure there, hiding out between two crates. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Kang. You’re cornered.”

“What’s the easy way, Mr. Cliche?”

“You give up and I take you in without a problem.”

“And the hard way?”

“I kick your fucking ass and take you in anyways.”

Yeongjun laughs again. “Yeah fucking right. This crate next to me? If I fire a single bullet, there’s enough explosives powerful enough to take this entire fucking building out, and every building in a two mile radius, after it sets the chain of every other explosive in this building off too. You wanna go up in flames? Get blown in a million pieces?”

“Jongho get a reading on the crate,” Seonghwa whispers.

“What was that? Get blown up?” Yeongjun calls out again.

“You’d take yourself down in that?”

“Yeonho was prepared to take over the empire for me anyhow. If I went then he’d just get all of it anyways.” Seonghwa can see him shift forward, making his way down the aisle towards him. Seonghwa creeps along the other side of the aisle, ducking down a side row, feet silent and swift, just a shadow moving on it’s own through the stores of weapons. “Where’d you go, Knight of Justice?”

Seonghwa chooses not to speak this time, needing to find a way to lure Yeongjun away from the explosives and out into the opening, even if it’s into the warehouse with the other agents. Anything where Seonghwa wasn’t one on one with him and his extensive knowledge of the dangers in this room. He slips through the maze of crates, and can’t help but feel afraid, for one of the first times in his life. “Jongho, do you have a visual on Kang?”

“No. Seonghwa, you might need to get out of there.”

“I can’t find my way out,” Seonghwa hisses. 

“There you are. This is my first look at your face. You’re a pretty boy, not at all what I pictured for a hitman. Too bad I’m about to put a bullet through it,” Yeongjun’s disgusting laugh rings out, Seonghwa jumping in alarm as Yeongjun fires at him.

Seonghwa ducks aside a little too late, taking cover behind more crates and groaning at the bullet in his arm, clutching it with his other hand. “Shit!”

“Awe, pretty boy, come back out. I didn’t get to kill you properly.” Yeongjun drops down from the crates he was poised on and starts walking around the corner that Seonghwa is hiding behind. Seonghwa has enough sense to raise his gun and clamber to his feet, staggering backwards, refusing to turn his back on Yeongjun when Yeongjun is armed. 

“Jongho, get him out of there!” Seonghwa can hear Yeosang screaming in the background of the air waves, apparently he’s in the vehicle with Jongho. The fear in his voice sends a shock through his heart.

Had he heard him earlier? Talking about having to leave? About not being okay?

Jongho’s voice brings him back, talking at the same time that Yeongjun rounds the corner and fires again, this time missing Seonghwa, but getting hit instead with one of Seonghwa’s own bullets, straight to the hand, knocking the weapon out of his hand. “Seonghwa, are you alright?”

“Just a bullet, Jongho. I’ll live. Can’t promise the same of Kang, though.”

“You didn’t.”

“I didn’t, but god, do I want to,” Seonghwa spits, watching Kang duck around the corner, blood dripping from the hole in his left hand. “He’ll be easy to follow now. I’ve got a blood trail from the fucker”. 

“Seonghwa.”

“I’ll get him down, Jongho, just follow the fucking plan and get me backup.” Seonghwa aims his gun around the corner that Yeongjun had disappeared around, and then slides the rest of his body around, and follows the trail of blood. He’s running now, the pussy. 

“The building is surrounded, Seonghwa. If he makes an exit they’ll get him.”

“Give it up, Kang.”

“Why would I? I’m surrounded by my own weapons, you unarmed me, but it’s ridiculously easy to get armed again.”

Bullets start raining, some sort of machine gun, firing round after round. 

“Seonghwa!” Yeosang screams again, still faint but in his ear nonetheless. Seonghwa throws himself over a row of crates, hiding and flinching every time a bullet rips through the wood of the crates. 

“Get out here, hitman!” Yeongjun shouts over the gunfire. It stops after a few more seconds, and the silence in the warehouse is deafening. “I’ll blow this place to heaven above. Just come out and let me fucking kill you, and this will all be over.”

Seonghwa waits a moment, weighing his options. His arm throbs in pain, and as much as he’s trying to keep a hold on it, he still needs to be able to arm himself. “I’m giving myself up, Jongho. Send reinforcement in. He doesn’t know.”

“Seonghwa, he’ll kill you, don’t fucking do it, you idiot.”

“Alright, Kang. I’ll show myself.” Seonghwa calls out. “Just send the backup in. I don’t care if you have to kill him or not. Just take fucking care of him.”

“Seonghwa,  _ no!”  _ Yeosang’s voice is screaming over the headset again, and he can hear Hongjoong ordering someone to get Yeosang out of the van, to sedate him. There’s a tussle in the background, a horrible crinkling over the mic, like someone grabbing it. “Listen to me Seonghwa, don’t you fucking  _ dare _ walk out in the open! He’ll  _ kill you,  _ you got in his way and he’s ruthless! Please! Listen to me!”

Yeosang. 

“Don’t worry about me, baby. I’ll be alright.”

“Come on, pretty boy, get out here, you have ten seconds or I blow this place up!” Yeongjun shouts. 

“Seonghwa, no! NO!” Yeosang’s getting moved away from the mic, perhaps forcefully, by the sound of it. Panic is all he can hear in Yeosang’s voice. Hongjoong is reasoning with him, and then Jongho is back on the mic.

“...8...7…”

“Seonghwa, don’t go out, backup is moving in, we’ve got a better map of the storehouse set up, if he’s by the explosives then he’s right by the door you came in, he’ll be easy to take down before he can blow it up.”

“...4…”

“I’m going to come out and you have to come in. I’ll distract him long enough for you to get him down. But you have to come in when I show myself.”

“...2… Hitman, just come out. You’re on your last chance.”

“Looks like you don’t want to die after all, Kang. Giving me an extra moment while you’re counting.” Seonghwa stands up, stepping from his hiding place. 

“Good, I’m glad you caught on, fucker.” Seonghwa can see him, back to the door, aiming at him with some huge rifle, the rows of rounds hanging down. He’s not going to just fire one. Seonghwa’s bulletproof vest wouldn’t save him now.

Seonghwa can see the flex of Yeongjun’s finger as it squeezes the trigger, as the door bursts open. He startles as a flood of agents surges on him, two agents taking him over, knocking the rifle to the floor and forcing him to the floor. Seonghwa’s body sags with relief, and he finally succumbs to the pain in his arm. The police flood in next, apprehending Yeongjun with ease. Mingi and Yunho come in through the entrance into the rest of the warehouse, and make their way to Seonghwa, who just sits on the floor beside the crate. 

He just cries, and Yunho comforts him while Mingi ties off his arm with a tight bandage.

Seonghwa comes out of the warehouse to get back in his car and go to headquarters for proper medical treatment, the dark sky above cloudy, and the police car lights mixing strangely with the orange hue of cheap street lights, producing a feeling deep in Seonghwa’s gut. Police and agents alike are crawling over the warehouse, like ants at a picnic. Most of the agents are giving witness reports and getting ready to leave, and Seonghwa knows he, too, will have to give a report at some point. The chatter on the scene makes for a dull hum, dulled further by the breeze through the trees around the warehouse. 

He stares up at the sky for a minute, grief and relief mixing in his heart, numbing the pain in his gunshot wound in a melancholy way. He closes his eyes for a minute and inhales the night air, Yeosang’s face taking the place of the sky behind his eyelids. Had he heard his conversation with Jongho before the mission? About tonight being their last night? What did Yeosang truly think of Seonghwa? A friend? A lover? A cold blooded assassin? Just someone to fulfill his duty?

Seonghwa opens his eyes, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat, willing himself not to cry again. He yearns for the days when things were simpler. When things weren’t messy. But it’s too late for that, his heart is too tangled up in it all.

He spots Hongjoong approaching him, dressed in his usual black on black suit, looking a bit disheveled, but like he runs a secret service, nonetheless. He gives Seonghwa a tired smile of relief, and then he notices the figure running towards him, in a hoodie and jeans, hair sticking up every which way, tears streaming down his face. 

Yeosang. 

He slams into Seonghwa, knocking the wind out of both of them, causing Seonghwa to stumble back a few steps, and then he hears the sobs coming from Yeosang’s mouth. “Oh  _ god _ , you’re alive!” Yeosang’s arms are tight around Seonghwa, and Seonghwa can feel every emotion bleeding from him- the agony, the fear, the sadness, the happiness, the accomplishment, the pride, the relief. He holds onto Seonghwa like a docked ship, one that’s just returned and made it through a stormy sea, the risk of never returning heavy on it’s hull.

Seonghwa can only wrap his arm around Yeosang, holding him as tight as he can with one arm. “It’s over, Yeosang. Your father will never hurt you or anyone else again. You can put him away, like you’ve always wanted to.”

“I know… I know.” Yeosang sobs into Seonghwa’s chest. Quickly, the sobs subside to little sniffles, and Yeosang’s grip loosens a little, into something more relaxed. “You know what?”

“What?”

“They had to drag me out of the surveillance van and sedate me. I lost it when you got shot. I was so calm, so cool, just watching the screens with Hongjoong and Jongho, watching you take your mission. It was like watching a first person action movie. And then you got shot, and your- your body suit, the screen was red, like in a video game, and the monitor showed where you’d been hit and I  _ knew _ it wasn’t fatal, but I was so fucking  _ worried _ …”

“Why were you in the surveillance van in the first place?” Seonghwa whispers, something in him feeling guilty, like he never should have questioned how Yeosang felt in the first place, like he  _ knew _ he was more than a piece in his revenge plan for his father. He should have known that in the months they spent together that he meant more than that to Yeosang all along. 

“Hongjoong asked if I wanted to see them take my father down. To see you take my father down. I- I did. In some twisted way, I wanted to see his face when everything he’s built came undone. Is it wrong?”

“No. No, and I’m sorry you had to hear it all. Everything he said about you,” Seonghwa says, Yeongjun’s insults towards his son flooding through his mind. 

“He said worse to my face before. Thank you, Seonghwa. For- for everything,” Yeosang whispers. “Between the evidence against him, and this… He’ll never be a free man again, no matter how much money he thinks he has. I’m the only one not in prison, I’m the only one with the ability to bail him out. And I never will. And I’m donating all of it.”

“Good. I’m proud of you, you know. For everything. For being strong and- and for having the ambition to want to put him away, and to better yourself.”

“I know. Thank you.”

They’re silent for what seems like ages, though it can’t be more than a minute because Hongjoong approaches them again. “Good work, Park,” he leads. “You shouldn’t take too much time getting to the hospital. You lost a good amount of blood in there, and that makeshift bandage won’t stop you from bleeding out for much longer. It’s already soaking through.”

Seonghwa spares a glance at the bandage on his arm and sees the tiniest bloom of red beginning on the outermost layer of bandage. Seonghwa nods. “Yes, Hongjoong. I’ll give a report tomorrow?”

“Your lense got it all. Someone will transcribe it and hand the footage over to the police. Don’t worry about it. Yeosang, congratulations. You’ve aided in taking down one of the biggest crime rings in the country. This will be your first case, defending the public versus Kang Yeongjun. We’d also like to offer you a position in our company.” Hongjoong holds out a business card.

“No, thank you. I’d like to remain a lawyer for everyday people. I’d like to continue helping people.” Yeosang smiles a little at Hongjoong, who smiles back. 

“I thought so. Well, I’ll leave you two now, I need to go take care of some business.” Hongjoong nods at the both of them and heads off to talk to some officers. 

Seonghwa moves away from Yeosang, looking at the ground. “So… the mission is complete, right? This… this is goodbye.”

Yeosang blanches, his jaw dropping. A look of pure incredulity and shock are present on his face, in disbelief of what Seonghwa just said. “You’re a secret agent, not a thief. You don’t get to steal my heart and leave with it.”

Seonghwa is the one to blink now, confused. “What?”

“For being someone with such an intellectual job, you’re pretty dumb sometimes,” Yeosang laughs, and then grabs Seonghwa’s face in between his hands. “I love you, dummy.”

And then he tugs Seonghwa in for a kiss, tender but firm, and Seonghwa’s hand rests on Yeosang’s waist, as he kisses Yeosang lovingly. He pulls back after a moment, a little smirk on his lips.

“Technically I’m not a secret agent, I’m an assassin,” Seonghwa chuckles quietly.

“You’re killing me, Seonghwa!” Yeosang giggles. 

“What a pun. I love you, Yeosang, and your terrible jokes,” Seonghwa laughs, and then leans in for another kiss.

Maybe getting sick once in a while isn’t such a bad thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! It's been a while since I posted anything, but I got sucked into ~adulting~ for a while and wasn't doing much writing. I'm hoping to get back on track and get posting again, since I have about a million things started and not finished, whoops.


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